


What you seek for...

by lionofwrath



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Blood, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Comfort, Pain, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Torture, Wesker/Others, additional chapter warnings in author's notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-12-18 16:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18253979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionofwrath/pseuds/lionofwrath
Summary: Chris and Jill go undercover at a black market auction and discover that Wesker is one of the BOWs being sold. Chris is determined to rescue him but that proves to be neither easy or straightforward.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pelissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelissa/gifts), [Chiauve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiauve/gifts).



> Yes, this fic is essentially 'Wesker is a slave and horrible things happen to him, and Chris tries to save him'  
> Written for my friends <3
> 
> No specific warnings for this chapter.

For what was probably the hundredth time, Chris worried that someone might recognise them. There was no reason that anyone should, sure he and Jill had thwarted more than a few supervillains trying to destroy the world, but that didn’t exactly make them well-known celebrities. Or maybe it was just the feeling that it was obvious he didn’t belong here among these people.

‘Calm down, John.’ Jill gave him a pointed smile over her wine glass as she faked a sip.

Chris took a deep breath, giving her an equally forced smile back. Personally, he thought she fit in better, Jill wore her dress with more elegance than he did his tux. She was right though, nobody was paying them any undue attention, they were all here for the same thing, and that was what people were interested in. Chris almost shook his head in disbelief. How the hell had BOWs become a commodity like this? Companies selling viruses to governments and terrorists was bad enough, but this was a thriving black market of its own, the bored wealthy looking to purchase pre-made BOWs for personal use. It was like some kind of bizarre exotic animal auction, well-dressed people sipping fancy drinks while they milled around the repurposed lab. Chris glanced at a cage containing a zombie dog, a preview of one of the creatures up for sale. It seemed remarkably well-behaved, sitting calmly in its cage as if it were a normal dog.

An official looking man caught him staring and sidled up to them. ‘First time buyer, sir?’

‘Yes.’ That was part of their cover story, a rich couple from America who were new to the auctions, backed up by an expertly forged invitation. He’d never been very good at undercover work but since he’d been approached Chris figured some questions wouldn’t be too suspicious. ‘How do you keep them under control?’ Chris attempted a casual gesture with his glass at the cage.

Jill coughed delicately to cover what was probably a laugh.

‘All of our merchandise goes through a strict punishment and reward training system, and is equipped with the latest in control chips to ensure complete obedience.’ The man gave him an oily smile.

Chris disliked him intensely. ‘I heard a rumour there’s something special up for auction tonight.’

The man leaned in conspiratorially. ‘You heard right sir, but I’m afraid I can’t give you a sneak peek.’

Chris tried not to sigh, the man obviously wanted a bribe and the BSAA hadn’t allocated them much in the way of funding, no matter how useful a glimpse would be. This was strictly an information gathering mission, as well as establishing their cover for future use. ‘That’s too bad.’

The man looked put out, his politeness fading. ‘Maybe you’d be more interested in our regular BOWs then.’

Grunting a negative, Chris let him leave.

Jill was staring at another cage, the zombified human inside sitting on the ground as calmly as the dog. ‘Chris, this is insane.’

‘Yeah.’ He resisted running a nervous hand through his hair. The BSAA had tried to crackdown on these auctions, but whoever was running them was good at slipping away and setting up shop somewhere else. It was only thanks to some serious work that they’d managed to find the location of this one, though they’d worked extra hard when they’d learned about the special BOW being offered. Extremely dangerous BOWs like hunters and lickers were already being sold, and the BSAA feared another escalation with whatever this new one was. A voice announced the beginning of the auction and wearily Chris followed Jill as she found them seats.

The gathering may have been civilised but the actual auction certainly wasn’t. It seemed that before paying buyers liked to inspect their purchases in front of the crowd, who were definitely getting a voyeuristic thrill out of it. Chris grimaced as he watched yet another person basically grope a zombie. He’d thought that the BOWs were mostly used as guards or just showpieces to brag about, and he really didn’t want to think about anything else people might be doing with them.

‘Shit.’ Chris couldn’t stifle the swear as a massive human-like form was led on stage by a handler, the tyrant standing passively next to the auctioneer as bidding started. Jill hissed under her breath. This had to be the specialty item… Chris frowned as he realised that the auctioneer hadn’t announced it like that. The people bidding didn’t seem to think it was anything spectacular either, though the price was going up quickly. Cold dread filled him at thinking that tyrants were commonplace at these auctions and he glanced at Jill to see her lips tight and her face pale. Stay focussed, he silently told himself and her.

‘And now for something special. A unique BOW different from anything that’s been offered here before.’ The auctioneer looked out over the crowd, smiling widely. ‘Now, I have to warn you ladies and gentlemen, despite our exacting training methods this one is still half wild, and we’ve had to keep him drugged as well to ensure everyone’s safety.’ Another dramatic pause. ‘Original species: human; sex: male; virus: unknown!’

Unknown? Chris shared a quick, concerned glance with Jill as a low murmur of interest went through the crowd. When he looked back at the stage he stopped breathing. The BOW being brought out was a familiar blond man. Jill gasped beside him but Chris couldn’t turn away. Like the previous BOWs Wesker was naked except for the collar around his neck. The handler dragging him forwards by a leash yanked too hard on it and he stumbled and fell awkwardly to his knees. His movements were uncoordinated and clumsy as he tried to get back up, the handler stepping on his chained wrists to keep him down.

‘What is this? That’s not a BOW!’ Someone shouted, the voice shockingly loud.

Chris startled but he couldn’t take his gaze off Wesker.

‘He is indeed.’ The auctioneer said smugly, gesturing to the handler. She grabbed a handful of too long blond hair and jerked Wesker’s head back to reveal his orange slit-pupiled eyes. He was obviously heavily drugged, his eyes barely tracking across the now gasping, excited crowd.

Chris’ hands ached as he balled them into fists, staring at his enemy, his former lover, Chris didn’t even know what to call him anymore, his thoughts scattered. He slowly became aware of how noisy it was, the noise becoming people saying numbers. They were bidding on Wesker just like the other BOWs, as if he was a thing they could possess. ‘No.’

‘Chris.’ Jill’s tone was soft but the grip on his arm was iron. ‘There’s nothing we can do. Don’t break cover.’

‘But-’

‘Sold!’ The auctioneer shouted triumphantly. ‘To the gentleman in the third row. If he’d like to come up here to inspect his goods?’

Chris ground his teeth as he watched the so-called gentleman put his hands all over Wesker. Wesker tried to flinch away from the touches but there was no real resistance in the attempt, his eyes closing as he stayed passive. The man was overly thorough, putting on a show and enjoying the attention the crowd was giving him. He petted Wesker’s hair, looked inside his mouth, put a hand between his legs to fondle him as if he owned him. Which he did. Chris swallowed back bile. He wasn’t seeing Wesker his hated enemy anymore, but Albert the man he loved, being abused. The weight of Jill’s hand on his arm was the only thing that kept him from leaping up and strangling the bastard. ‘I can’t watch this.’ He pleaded, but he also couldn’t look away.

‘I know.’ Jill’s voice steadied him with the compassionate understanding in the words.

Chris was still shaking with anger when they finally got up to leave, and filled with determination. ‘They must keep the BOWs somewhere until the buyers collect them.’ He muttered to Jill.

She sighed, but pulled him off into a side hallway. ‘I have an idea where that might be.’

They tried a few doors and eventually found the right one, a room lined with rows of kennels of different sizes, each of them holding a BOW. They were also all locked electronically and he saw Jill lean over to inspect one and shake her head. ‘We don’t have enough time to break it.’

‘Shit.’ Chris searched down the rows frantically, stopping in front of a large dog kennel. Wesker was curled up inside, only his pale shoulders and the back of his head visible. ‘Wesker!’ Chris whispered loudly, kneeling down. ‘Albert!’

Wide orange eyes blinked at Chris in confusion. ‘You…’ He seemed barely able to speak, his fingers sliding through the wire door as far as he could reach.

‘I can’t get you out.’ Chris slipped his own fingers through the wires to hold Wesker’s. ‘But I’ll find you. I promise, Al.’

Wesker stared blankly at their joined hands, then back at Chris, sudden desperation on his face.

‘Chris!’ Jill hissed.

A moment later he heard the footsteps too. He squeezed Wesker’s fingers one more time. ‘I’ll save you. Al, I swear. I won’t leave you.’

‘Chris?’ His name was a broken mess but still understandable.

Chris stood up, his heart breaking at leaving Wesker like this.

‘We have to go.’ Jill gestured to him to follow her.

A wordless cry of grief echoed after them as they escaped and Chris had never felt so guilty in his life.

 

The BSAA refused to rescue Wesker.

Finding and stopping the people running the black market BOW auctions was the highest priority, and now that Chris and Jill had established their cover identities they could start getting some real information towards that goal. Chris understood this.

The mission was important, ridding the world of BOWs and the people who profited off making and selling them was important. BSAA agents had invested time and hard work into researching the auctions, setting up their covers, and providing support during the missions. Chris understood this too.

None of that changed the simple fact that Wesker had been sold as a slave, and there was no fucking way that Chris was leaving him to be abused by that piece of shit.

But it was Jill who offered the solution in a compromise: they would continue their undercover activities in order to stop the auctions and at the same time locate Wesker. The BSAA would raid the residences of the buyers after the auctions were shut down and Wesker would then be rescued as part of that operation. Grudgingly Chris had agreed, feeling like he was somehow betraying both the BSAA and Wesker, but he didn't have any other options since he didn’t actually know where Wesker was, or who had bought him.

All of which had added up to Chris and Jill attending another black market BOW auction. He’d spotted the bastard who’d bought Wesker almost immediately but despite his anger he was smart enough to know that he had to make an approach carefully. Jill had looped her arm around his, part of their cover as a couple, and also to keep him from doing something stupid.

‘I’m not going to punch him.’

‘Good.’ Jill muttered back as they drifted through the crowd towards their target.

Chris plastered a smile on his face, playing up the friendly American as he stuck his hand out. ‘I’d hoped to see you again, that BOW you bought last auction was an impressive one.’

‘It was our first time.’ Jill added.

Chris tried not to wipe his hand on his pants when the man released him.

‘Ah. That was exciting even for us frequent buyers, it must have made quite an impression on you as newcomers.’ The man gave them a fake friendly smile.

‘Oh, yes.’ Jill gave a silly little giggle. ‘I just couldn’t wait to come to another one.’

‘Really?’ That caught the man’s interest. ‘Unfortunately my wife isn’t interested in my… little hobby.’

Chris mentally thanked Jill for getting them a foothold.

‘That’s a shame, isn’t it, John?’ She glanced up at Chris, her body tenser than her casual words. ‘We’re looking forwards to enjoying this together, I think things are more fun when you have someone to share them with.’

‘Well said.’ The man gave her a little bow and nodded at Chris. ‘Forgive my lack of manners, my name is Louis.’

‘I’m John, and this is Beth.’ No last names yet, these auctions weren’t completely anonymous but trust had to be built up.

‘Nice to meet you.’ He looked away as the announcer requested for everyone to take their seats. ‘Maybe we can talk more at the next auction. Good luck on your bids.’

‘You too.’ Jill waved, then as he moved out of earshot muttered ‘asshole’ under her breath.

‘You got him.’ Chris was awed, and since they were pretending to be a couple anyway he hugged her too. ‘This is going to work.’

‘Don’t celebrate yet.’ She warned him unnecessarily. ‘But I think you’re right.’

 

By the fourth auction they’d attended they’d managed to buy two hunters, a licker, and a dog, to maintain their cover, but Louis still hadn’t been anything but politely distant to them. The BSAA had been getting a steady supply of information that was leading them closer to the mastermind behind the auctions and Chris was getting antsy. If the BSAA shut down the auctions before he found Wesker he might lose his only chance to ever find him even if there were records on the buyers.

But as the latest auction closed and people started leaving, Louis slipped through the crowd and pressed something into Chris’ hand. ‘My card.’ He explained. ‘I’m having a little get-together with some friends, and I’d be delighted if you could attend. The details are on the back.’

Chris almost crumpled the card in his hand in sheer relief.

‘Let’s get out of here first.’ Jill steered them to an exit.

Chris flipped the elegant business card over again. A name, Louis Argus, on one side, a date and address on the other.

‘It could be a trap.’ Jill suggested.

‘He has Wesker.’ Chris stared at the name. ‘You don’t have to come, Jill-’

‘Like hell I don’t. I’m not letting my partner walk into a dangerous situation alone.’ She snapped at him, not in anger but in concern.

‘I’m risking both our lives to save our worst enemy.’ He watched the card flutter to the floor. ‘How can I possibly justify that?’

‘Because it’s the right thing to do, Chris.’ Jill reached out to take his hands. ‘And I know that part of you will always love him.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He really was, for getting her involved in this, for his own feelings.

‘You care about people. It’s a strength, not a weakness. Even when it’s Wesker.’

‘Thanks. You’re very wise, sensei.’ Chris teased her, but he meant the thanks sincerely.

‘Yes, I am.’ Jill said solemnly, then laughed. ‘Now, let’s go find Wesker.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the warnings start, so  
> Warnings for: torture, non-explicit rape, non-explicit rape with an object, and a long dubiously consensual sex scene between Chris and Wesker (as in, someone makes them have sex, they consent as much as they can to each other)

A well-dressed butler opened the door, requesting the card that Louis had given them. After inspecting it he took their coats and led them to another room, announcing them to the small group gathered there. Louis greeted them graciously as they entered but Chris’ attention was fixed on the blond man wearing nothing but a collar who was kneeling at his feet. His gaze met Chris’ and for a moment he thought he saw a spark of recognition in the dull, glassy orange eyes.

‘He is stunning, isn’t he?’ Louis remarked in amusement, combing his fingers possessively through Wesker’s hair before gripping it and forcing his head up to issue an order. ‘Why don’t you go sit with our new friend John, hmm?’

Wesker nodded and obediently crawled over to settle at Chris’ feet.

‘You can pet him, he doesn’t bite. Not anymore.’ Louis laughed at his own sick joke.

Chris wanted to hit him, but instead he stroked the blond head at his knee, the strands as soft as he remembered. But there were other people’s eyes on them, and he could feel Wesker shivering at the contact. He had to keep up his cover instead of dwelling on the past or he was going to get them all killed. ‘He’s well trained then.’ Chris smiled to conceal his disgust at having to say the words.

‘Not completely. He was so aggressive when I first purchased him I had to take him back to have the control chip adjusted, and I still use a low-dose sedative on him for added safety.’ Louis frowned as he watched Wesker sit passively at Chris’ feet. ‘I’ve hired an expert to continue his training though, and it seems to be improving his behaviour.’

The casual way he talked about breaking Wesker chilled Chris to the bone.

‘Ah, I almost forgot to make introductions.’

Chris paid careful attention to the names and faces as Louis talked and served them drinks. There were less than a dozen people there, only a few women, the rest men. The one beside Chris, Bob, was American too and eager to chat up his fellow countryman. The conversation was normal, as was the party so far, if you could ignore the naked man in the room, which Chris certainly couldn’t. It set him on edge, and he could tell that Jill felt it too, the gut feeling that something bad was going to happen.

A short while later, it did. Louis had passed out some expensive cigarettes, and as he exhaled smoke he called out to Wesker. ‘Come here, pet.’

Under Chris’ hand Wesker shuddered, the fine strands of his hair slipping through Chris’ fingers as he pulled away. He kneeled back at Louis’ feet, head lowered in submission or fear. Louis took another drag on his cigarette then stubbed it out on Wesker’s shoulder. He didn’t even flinch, as if he was so used to the pain he couldn’t feel it anymore.

Chris stared at the burn as it slowly healed, the black fading to raw red and then to pale unscarred skin again. It wasn’t as if he’d never thought about making Wesker suffer for the pain he’d caused, but even his darkest thoughts had never gone this far. This was nothing but pure cruelty, and Chris couldn’t stand to see someone he loved abused like this. But he had to for the sake of the BSAA’s mission. So he sat and watched in furious silence, the cold dread in his stomach telling him this was only going to get worse.

‘Go.’ Louis flicked his fingers and Wesker crawled to the next person, waiting until the man had put out his cigarette on the inside of his arm before moving on.

Chris sucked harder on his own cigarette, he didn’t smoke much anymore but he’d taken one to calm his nerves. If he finished it before Wesker got to him he wouldn’t have to participate in their abuse.

The next woman delayed Wesker, she’d taken several cigarettes and instead of smoking them she was simply lighting them one by one and stubbing them out in a line along Wesker’s inner thigh.

‘Ouch.’ Chris dropped his cigarette butt and shook his singed fingers. Beside him, Bob gave him an odd look. ‘It’s been a while.’ Chris forced a self-deprecating laugh.

By the time Wesker had made it back around the circle, Louis had lit another cigarette. He took hold of Wesker’s jaw, digging his fingers in. ‘Open.’ Wesker opened his mouth slowly, the muscles in his shoulders tense as Louis pressed the lit end of the cigarette into his tongue. He made a faint noise, his head moving slightly as if he wanted to get away but that was it.

Chris hated seeing him so passive, as if he was just a doll that resembled Wesker instead of a real person. No, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, think that way. He had to believe that he wasn’t too late, that there was still an Albert Wesker left to save.

The first glimpse that Wesker wasn’t a completely docile, well-conditioned slave came when one of the men actually groped him. Wesker changed suddenly, his eyes flashing red and his teeth bared as he snarled. The man squeaked in fright and shied away, but Louis seemed unworried about the threat, sprawling casually back on the couch. ‘Ah, ah. You know what happens if you don’t behave.’

Wesker turned his glare on him, rising into a half-crouch as he flexed his fingers.

Louis smiled cruelly. ‘Be a good boy and get back on your knees.’

He stayed where he was, eyes narrowed, and Chris tensed too, ready to back Wesker up when he attacked. But instead all the defiance seemed to drain out of him and he knelt on the floor in front of the man who’d touched him. Regaining his courage now that he had a victim in reach again, the man put his foot between Wesker’s legs, pressing down until Wesker let out a low cry of pain, shuddering as his head dropped.

Jill’s nails dug into Chris’ arm. He didn’t want to believe what he’d seen, that Wesker would just give up so easily…

‘Anyway, as I was saying-’ Louis continued.

A shriek cut him off. Wesker was almost sobbing against the floor, shaking as he curled up with his hands cupping his genitals protectively.

‘Sorry to interrupt you again.’ The man who’d hurt him said without any sincerity.

Louis waved a hand. ‘You’re not to blame. I’ll punish him later.’

Chris ground his teeth at the reminder. It wasn’t Wesker’s fault, he hadn’t given up easily, he’d been brutalised into submission by this piece of shit who considered him nothing more than property. The BSAA’s mission was to arrest the buyers, but if Chris got the chance he was going to kill him.

 

‘It’s time for some games.’ Louis’ grating voice brought Chris out of his fantasies of killing the man. He was smiling unpleasantly at Wesker, who had recovered enough to return to his knees.

Chris didn’t like the sound of this, or the way he was looking at Wesker.

‘Something simple, I think, since we want our new friends to have a sporting chance.’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Let’s start with pin the tail on the ass.’

Chris shared a confused glance with Jill.

Bob caught it and explained. ‘Louis doesn’t like to choose between his friends, and drawing lots isn’t very interesting, so we play games.’

‘Children’s party games?’ Chris asked, baffled at what was happening.

The man shrugged and grinned. ‘Not always, but these ain’t for kids. Don’t knock it till you try it.’

Louis had fetched a box from somewhere while Chris was talking and now he was passing out tails. The tails themselves were fancy looking leather strips but the pins they were attached to were closer in size and weight to a nail. ‘Careful, they’re sharp.’ Louis cautioned him as he moved on.

Chris suspected they both knew where this was going but Jill bravely asked, even managing a brainless giggle. ‘Oh my, what are we pinning with these?’

Bob gave her a patronising smile. ‘Take a look.’ What he was pointing at was Wesker, who had been pulled to his feet facing the wall, head braced on his forearms, legs slightly apart. ‘Told ya this wasn’t a children’s game.’

Chris looked down at the nail in his hand, then at Jill. She couldn’t quite keep the horror off her face, but her eyes hardened as she met his gaze. Don’t break cover, don’t blow the mission, he reminded himself. Even if it meant watching a man he cared about being tortured. 

The first guest was blindfolded, gently spun in a circle and directed towards Wesker. Chris winced as the man jabbed the nail into Wesker’s shoulder, leaving it there as he pulled off the blindfold. ‘Not even close.’ He sighed and passed the blindfold to the next person.

Chris watched as another pair of nails went into Wesker’s side. Jill managed to stick hers into the wall just to the right of Wesker’s hip, laughing as if she’d made a mistake.

Chris hoped to do the same but after the blindfold was on and he’d been spun around he was too disoriented. He held the nail out in front of him and prayed he wouldn’t hit Wesker, knowing he’d failed as he heard an almost inaudible gasp. There was nothing he could do but keep pushing, his fingers meeting warm skin as the nail went all the way in. Dismayed, he pulled off the blindfold to see his nail buried beside Wesker’s spine. ‘I’m sorry.’ He whispered softly, but if Wesker’s enhanced hearing picked up the words he didn’t make any acknowledgement.

The game went on for three rounds, the numerous black tails stark against the pale skin of Wesker’s back and ass. Some of the players didn’t even seem to be trying to win, but rather to stab him in the places that would cause the most pain. And Chris was standing there and doing nothing to stop it. At least he hadn’t stuck another nail in Wesker, he’d been more aware the next times and hit the wall instead. He gritted his teeth in fury as the current player shoved a nail into Wesker’s body just above the curve of his ass.

‘I think we have a winner.’ Louis announced, as the self-declared judge he hadn’t taken part in the game himself.

The winner gleefully took hold of one of the leather tails and pulled it out, the wound starting to bleed as the nail came free. The others were yanked out of Wesker just as roughly, causing drops of blood to ooze down his skin from the punctures, but Wesker barely reacted to the pain. When he’d gotten all the nails out the man fisted his hand in blond hair. He was almost a foot shorter than Wesker, but there was nothing funny about watching him force Wesker to his knees.

Chris glanced at the other guests, the too interested look in their eyes and he suddenly realised exactly what the winner’s prize was. Jill’s hand slipped into his as he cursed himself, still trapped by his duty to the BSAA’s mission.

Wesker’s eyes were closed, the rest of his body limp as the man used his grip on Wesker’s hair to force his cock down his throat. It didn’t take long for the man to come, holding Wesker’s head in place as he visibly swallowed without any hesitation.

‘He never had much stamina.’ The woman next to Jill stage-whispered at her.

Jill gave her an incredibly forced laugh, her hand so tight around Chris’ that his fingers were going numb. He didn’t care about that, he didn’t care about anything except the blond man kneeling on the floor that he was completely powerless to protect.

 

Wesker was ordered to go wash his mouth out while the guests returned to their seats, chatting amongst themselves. It wasn’t fair to make Jill deal with the brunt of the socialising but Chris couldn’t bring himself to pretend to be friendly right now. He drank more instead, even though it wouldn’t take the edge off his temper.

‘Next, we’ll do spin the bottle.’ A few people grinned as Louis crouched in the centre of the room and set the bottle spinning. Wesker came back as the bottle stopped, and there was a brief flicker of relief in his eyes when he saw it pointing at Jill. She hesitated, and Chris shared her uncertainty, no one had explained what this game involved. 

‘Anything you want from him.’ Louis said graciously, directing Wesker towards her.

Jill smiled weakly at him. ‘A kiss.’

‘That’s very chaste of you.’ He frowned.

Before Chris could start to worry about their cover one of the other women chimed in. ‘Don’t rush her, Louis. Isn’t that just like a man?’ She added to Jill with an eye-roll.

‘It’s your choice, of course.’ Louis conceded, hands raised to fend off the accusation.

Chris didn’t want to feel grateful towards any of these people but some were surprisingly helpful in keeping suspicion off them.

Wesker knelt in front of Jill, waiting. She reached out, taking her time running her fingers through his hair while he shivered. It was obvious to Chris how reluctant she was to continue since any touch seemed to distress him, but if she stopped then she was giving him up to worse abuse. The other guests were getting restless though, and unable to delay any longer Jill tightened her grip and pulled Wesker up into a kiss. Some expression formed on his face as he withdrew but Chris blinked and it was gone.

Louis spun the bottle again, choosing another woman, Laura. She was the one who had burned Wesker several times earlier, a disturbing smile spreading across her face as she stood up. Chris had seen the fireplace as he’d entered the room at the beginning of the evening, but he hadn’t thought much of it beyond noticing that it was lit. Now he saw the poker resting in the fire, the end red hot as Laura pulled it out for inspection.

‘Shit.’ Chris hissed under his breath, he was already so tired of watching Wesker be hurt, and angry at how long he’d been enduring this. Jill brushed her fingers against his and he took her hand, thankful for the emotional support of his partner.

Wesker flinched, whining quietly as Laura twisted the tip of the poker into his shoulder just below his collarbone. She smiled wider, working her way methodically down his body, rolling the edge of the poker along his ribs, digging the end into the inside of his arm. Each new burn pulled a louder, more pained cry from him as he started to tremble from shock. Patiently, Laura reheated the metal before drawing a searing line just below Wesker’s navel, along his thigh, then lower to nudge between his legs… and Wesker snapped. In a blur of movement he grabbed the hot poker in his bare hand, wrenched it out of her grasp and swung it at her, and then he was screaming in agony.

Stunned, Chris just stared at him writhing on the floor, then at the unharmed woman standing over him laughing in excitement. ‘What’s-’

‘Control chip.’ Bob answered from beside him, his eyes fixed greedily on the suffering Wesker. ‘Those scientists are geniuses, I tell ya.’

Wesker was tearing at his own shoulders and back now, clawing bloody furrows into his skin as if trying to get something out. Chris hadn’t seen the effects of the chips firsthand yet, just the BSAA report on them, but he hadn’t imagined it would be like this. The screaming eventually died down to panting as Wesker’s hands dropped from his blood-soaked back and he collapsed in utter exhaustion.

‘Well, that was certainly entertaining. Shall we continue?’ A chorus of agreement answered Louis.

Chris’ fist ached with the need to punch the smug bastard in the face, they were going to… his gaze went back to Wesker. He was still on the floor, gasping in shallow breaths as he tried to recover. The best Chris could hope for was that he was the next winner and he would somehow be able to keep Wesker from being hurt further. But he wasn’t that lucky.

It was a man who had only given his last name, Rousseau, and he gleefully snatched up the bottle itself before advancing on Wesker. He’d revived enough to be aware of the man approaching him, turning to Louis with open fear in his eyes as if begging him to intervene.

Louis gave a small dramatic sigh. ‘As always, you may do what you want with him.’

Wesker cringed away from the man, but he had no hope of escape and the echoes of pain from the control chip were a reminder not to fight. Rousseau was tall enough and strong enough to forcibly drag Wesker off the floor, throwing him face down over a table. Chris focussed intently on a design in the wallpaper, but he couldn’t block out the sickeningly wet noises, or Wesker’s pitiful sobs.

When Rousseau finally stopped he slammed the bottle back onto the table, the neck slick and bright red. Wesker was barely breathing, his eyes closed and his pale thighs soaked in his own blood, and the man still hadn’t finished with him. Chris tasted bile as he looked away again.

‘Messy.’ Louis actually sounded rather reproachful but Chris wasn’t giving him any credit. ‘Maybe we should play something less damaging for our next game.’

 

Everyone turned to study Wesker as he limped back into the room, and he froze as he became aware of their gazes. The burns were still shiny red scars striping his pale skin, but the blood and come had been washed off.

‘Come here.’ Louis commanded.

Wesker hunched his shoulders, his white-knuckled fingers slipping off the door frame as he haltingly moved forwards. His eyes were terrified, bottom lip caught between his teeth, a sharp contrast to his earlier almost eerily calm acceptance of everything. Or everything up until he’d fought back and the control chip had activated. Chris realised he had been reading Wesker wrong, his submissiveness was real but it was also a form of emotional detachment from what was being done to his body. Pain had destroyed that meagre protection and left him vulnerable. And Louis knew it too.

This wasn’t a game so much as playground bullying, except instead of shoving the person trapped in the middle they were molesting him. Wesker was blindfolded with a mask that also covered his ears, his hands tied behind his back. Deprived of his senses he couldn’t get his bearings and he staggered around the circle of people, flinching away from groping hands only to run into more. Chris slapped him weakly across the hip as he got close to keep up appearances. Wesker’s head moved from side to side as he desperately tried to see anything, his muscles taut, and it was obvious that he was starting to panic. The group jeered even though he couldn't hear it, egging each other on as they shrunk the circle around him. Once more Chris didn’t know the game’s rules, or how to win, it seemed so pointless except as a way to terrorise Wesker, which was probably enough of a goal for these people. He twisted away from the man reaching between his legs, falling to the floor with a low cry.

‘Get up.’ Louis forced him to stand again, shoving him towards someone else.

Falling seemed to make things worse, Wesker’s stumbling movements becoming more erratic and disoriented, his breathing so laboured Chris could hear it over the laughter. Wesker recoiled too quickly from a hand, losing his balance and tripping in Chris’ direction. Chris instinctively caught him, his arms locked tight around the trembling body. At that moment if anyone had tried to take Wesker from him he would’ve lashed out, the mission be damned, but no one did.

‘Congratulations.’

Chris hissed. ‘What?’

‘You won. It’s your turn to use him.’ Louis explained bluntly. 

Wesker’s shallow, panicked breaths were loud in his ear, his heart pounding against Chris’ chest. ‘I don’t want to fuck him.’ Chris snapped too harshly. The guests stared at him and Chris prepared for a fight as he realised he just blew his cover.

Then Louis smiled. ‘Ah, I apologise, John. I should have mentioned that there are private rooms you can use if that’s more to your taste.’

Chris seized the opportunity, making a heroic effort to sound casual again. ‘It is. Sorry if I overreacted.’

‘It’s part of your American charm.’ Louis laughed, the other American laughed louder, and the tension in the room vanished. ‘Upstairs, any door on the right.’

Chris nodded, already moving before he noticed that Wesker was still wearing the blindfold, unaware that the man dragging him off was Chris. He pulled it off more roughly than he’d meant to, Wesker wincing in the sudden light. ‘Let’s go.’ Chris guided him towards the stairs, eager to get away from the leers and eyes of the others. He glanced into each room then picked the farthest one.

After closing and locking the door he untied Wesker, who to Chris’ dismay headed straight for the bed. It seemed likely that they were being spied on though, and unwilling to take any chances Chris started to search the room for cameras or bugs.

‘There aren’t any cameras.’ The voice was low but so unexpected that Chris actually jumped. Wesker was watching him with haunted eyes, but he looked like himself for the first time since Chris had seen him at that auction.

‘You’re ok.’ Chris knew how stupid the words were as soon as he’d said them.

‘Ok?’ Wesker growled, anger making him even more his normal self. ‘Do I fucking seem ok?’

‘Sorry.’ The silence after the word made Chris fidget.

‘I didn’t think you’d keep your promise.’ Wesker finally said quietly.

‘I always do.’ Chris couldn’t figure out if he was having a conversation with his enemy or the man he was trying to save and he guessed that Wesker was just as confused. He changed the subject to something more straightforward. ‘How did this happen to you?’

Wesker gave him a suspicious glare, but he answered. ‘I was injured, the last time we fought. A group of scavengers found me. They… sold me…’ He shuddered and didn’t continue.

‘To the people running the auctions. So that’s how they get their hands on the BOWs they sell.’ That was an important part of the puzzle for the BSAA’s operation, they hadn’t known where the BOWs came from originally, and Chris couldn’t hide his excitement.

Wesker sneered at him but his eyes were hurt. ‘So that’s your mission, to shut down the auctions. I knew you had a reason for coming here.’

‘My reason is to rescue you.’ Chris corrected him firmly.

‘I don’t believe you, Chris.’ Wesker snarled as his hand shot out and just as quickly withdrew when he started screaming.

Chris swore as the control chip tortured him, but he didn’t know how to turn it off, was afraid to even touch Wesker in case it made the pain worse. Wesker dug his fingernails into his back, ripping open the scars he’d caused earlier and Chris’ resolve broke. He grabbed Wesker’s wrists, forcing them away from his damaged skin, and gathered the struggling man into his arms. Miraculously it seemed to help, Wesker’s screams becoming sobs as Chris rubbed his back soothingly and rocked him like a child. 

Wesker’s fingers tangled into the front of his shirt as he calmed, tears still running down his cheeks as he pressed his face into Chris’ chest. ‘I hate you.’ He whispered, but the words were more exhausted than spiteful.

‘I hate you too.’ Chris reassured him, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you be abused like this.’

Wesker gazed up at him and Chris wasn’t sure who’d moved first but they were kissing, Wesker pulling him down by his shirt while Chris slid his fingers into still damp blond hair. He kissed the tears off Wesker’s cheeks between kisses of his lips until eventually they pulled apart again, eyeing each other warily.

Chris didn’t want to bring up their current situation but it was unavoidable. ‘How long can we stay up here before they get suspicious?’

‘Since you’re new, and you requested privacy, quite a while. But, Chris…’ Wesker turned away, his fingers bunching the sheets up. ‘You need to fuck me.’

‘What? No-’

‘He’ll check, and he’ll hurt me if he thinks I… displeased you.’ Wesker interrupted tersely, still not looking at him.

Chris stared at him, then leaped off the bed to pace, scrubbing his hands through his hair angrily. ‘Shit. Shit! You-’

‘I’m a slave.’ Wesker flushed in humiliation. ‘A whore.’

‘No, you’re not!’

At the fervent denial Wesker did look at him, studying him for a long minute before speaking. ‘If it helps… I still… want you.’

‘Don’t lie to me to make me do this.’ Chris pleaded.

‘I’m not lying.’ Wesker’s voice was too quiet, his expression open and vulnerable.

It didn’t mean he was being honest, Chris knew better than to assume he could tell when Wesker was being truthful, but apparently it made no difference. Neither of them wanted Wesker to be hurt for a perceived failure to satisfy Chris, and that was as close to consent as they were going to get.

‘Ok, I guess let’s do this then.’ He stripped off his clothes, Wesker’s eyes flitting over him in an odd mix of fear and lust.

Chris didn’t think it would be quick and easy but when he settled his hands on Wesker’s hips he flinched away, his breathing speeding up in panic as his eyes closed, and Chris realised he was moving too fast. He wanted it over and done with because he knew if he took it slow with Wesker it would be too intimate, too obvious that he was still in love with him. But over the past few hours, and the past few months if not longer, Wesker had been repeatedly and violently raped, and Chris couldn’t bear adding to his trauma by making this cold and impersonal.

‘Al?’ He moved his hands to where Albert’s were gripping the sheets. ‘Al? Can you hear me?’

Albert shuddered hard but his eyes opened and focussed on Chris’ face. Chris ran his fingers up Albert’s paler ones then back down to interlace them, part of his palm too smooth where it had been burned. ‘What are you doing?’ He whispered shakily.

‘Seducing you. Al, I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘I… I know.’

Chris kissed him again, starting with his lips, then the parts of his throat that weren’t covered by the collar. When he kissed the healing burn scar on Albert’s shoulder he made a soft noise and pressed his face into Chris’ neck. ‘It’s ok.’ He murmured reassuringly. Chris freed one of his hands, but Albert locked his fingers tighter around the other as Chris kissed the scar again, then moved downwards to take a nipple into his mouth. Fingers tangled into Chris’ hair as Albert gasped faintly and shivered. ‘You ok?’ Chris stroked his arm as he glanced up into startled orange eyes.

‘Yeah, I just…’ Albert shook his head firmly as if banishing a thought. ‘Yeah.’ He pushed on the back of Chris’ head a little in encouragement and Chris couldn’t help grinning as he licked a slow circle around Albert’s nipple. It wasn’t a particularly sensitive spot for him, but this was familiar foreplay for them and he felt Albert relax slightly as he continued. When he’d teased that nipple enough, Chris went for the other one, hearing Albert moan a bit at the change. ‘Chris.’

He kissed his way back up Albert’s chest, across the scar and the collar to claim his lips. ‘Ok, Al?’ Chris checked with him before they went further.

‘Yeah.’ Albert let go of his hair but refused to release his hand as Chris helped him lie down on his back and made sure he was comfortable. His pale hair and skin contrasted with the darker sheets to make him look ethereal, his orange eyes soft as he gazed up at Chris and for the first time Chris found them beautiful instead of hateful. He stayed at Albert’s side, pushing their joined hands back onto the bed as he leaned over to kiss down Albert’s body, fingers winding into Chris’ hair again as he travelled lower.

Chris dipped his tongue into Albert’s navel then kissed the scar just under it, a shudder and a hitched breath making him pause. ‘Are you ok?’

‘Keep going, keep…’ Albert sounded dazed but not frightened so Chris obeyed him. He nuzzled the blond hair between his legs, mouthing at the base of Albert’s cock, feeling him harden under the attention. His hips bucked upwards as he moaned, tugging on Chris’ hair but not to pull him away.

Chris was rather aroused himself, he’d always gotten a great deal of enjoyment out of pleasuring his lover. Albert whined and rutted up against his mouth again, his cock wonderfully warm under Chris’ lips. He kissed up the shaft to lick the sensitive head, Albert’s long, low wail going straight to Chris’ own cock. Chris lapped up some of the drops of pre-come, then sat back to check in with Albert again. ‘Al? You ok?’

The fingers in his hair combed through the strands at the back of his neck as Albert nodded, trying to catch his breath.

Abruptly, Chris noticed a problem. ‘I don’t have any lube-’

‘In the drawer.’ Albert tilted his head towards the nightstand.

His heart sank as he realised why Albert knew that. It was a sickening reminder that they weren’t having sex because they wanted to, in the heat of the moment he’d almost managed to forget they weren’t lovers anymore. Guilt followed the thought as he stared at the collar around Albert’s throat, knowing that he didn’t have the luxury of forgetting the reality of the situation. Reluctantly, Albert released his hand so Chris could reach over to open the drawer, choosing a bottle with only a cursory glance at the label. He pushed Albert’s knees open to slide between them, Albert bunching up the sheets in his fists as if needing something to hold on to.

Chris felt like he should say something but there was nothing that would make this any easier, so instead he kissed the side of Albert’s knee and up his inner thigh to try to relax him a bit more before spreading his legs wider. He didn’t know how fast Albert healed, the burns from the hot poker remained shiny scars and he’d been brutally raped even more recently, but thankfully he didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore. It was small comfort, at the very least Albert was probably still sore, and Chris could only hope that if he took it slowly and gently enough it wouldn’t be too painful for him. He poured extra lube over his fingers as a precaution, then reached down to rub circles against Albert’s rim. The muscle felt swollen and tender, Albert gasping a little as Chris carefully smeared lube around the outside of his hole. Gradually he increased the pressure, starting to worry as Albert showed no sign of arousal, his cock soft against his stomach. ‘Al? You ok?’

‘Fine.’ The reply was short but to the point, so despite his reservations Chris worked a single finger into his red, abused rim. Albert’s entire body went rigid and then just as quickly changed to limp and unresisting.

Chris stopped immediately, but he knew it was already too late. ‘Al?’

‘N-’ Albert’s teeth clamped into his bottom lip as he tried to fight the sob, a tear running down his cheek despite his efforts.

‘Al?’ Chris silently swore at himself in frustration as he moved out from between Albert’s legs. Albert shook his head weakly, eyes closing in an attempt to block out what he thought was going to happen next. ‘Al, look at me.’ Chris coaxed, stroking the tense pale fingers twisted into the sheets. ‘You’re ok, it’s me, Chris.’

Orange eyes opened slowly. ‘Chris?’ Albert was clutching at Chris’ hand so tightly his fingers were starting to go numb.

‘Yeah, I’m here. I’m so sorry I hurt you.’

‘I… Chris, I…’ Another quickly stifled sob wracked his body.

‘Hey, c’mere.’ Chris pulled him up into a hug, hoping it would help like it had earlier. Albert clung to him, burying his face in Chris’ neck as he shook. ‘Easy, I’m here.’ He murmured the words into Albert’s hair, alternating them with kisses. ‘I’ve got you.’

‘Will you really save me?’ Albert’s voice was shaking as badly as his body.

‘Yes.’ Chris replied without hesitation, wishing that it could be as easy as sweeping Albert into his arms and murdering all the bastards downstairs on their way out. ‘Just a bit longer, Al. And then I promise I’m getting you the hell out of here.’

The only response was a long, shuddering breath as Albert’s grip on him tightened. Then he pulled away, lying back down on the bed and spreading his legs, squeezing Chris’ hand too hard in obvious fear, but his voice was flat and defeated. ‘You should fuck me now.’

Chris tried to keep his anger from showing since it wasn’t directed at Albert. ‘I can’t, Al. I can’t hurt you like that.’

‘If you don’t, he will.’ A tremor went through him. ‘Please, Chris.’

The plea was more than he could bear but he still couldn’t do it. ‘I won’t fuck you, not like this. We can have sex without you being in pain.’

Albert considered that, his eyes wary. ‘What are you suggesting?’

‘I dunno.’ Chris sighed and lay next to him, kissing his shoulder. ‘Let’s just start again.’ He craned his neck to kiss along Albert’s collarbone while trailing the fingers of his free hand down his chest. Albert rolled over to face him, and Chris caught his lips in a deep kiss, muffling the moan as Chris’ tongue slipped into his mouth. An arm went around Chris’ back to pull him closer, a small whine escaping him as their bodies pressed against each other. ‘You ok?’

‘Yeah. Ah!’ Albert’s hips jerked forwards as Chris teased one of his nipples, his fingers digging into Chris’ ass for support. Chris groaned as their cocks rubbed together, the friction too rough without lube, but he couldn’t be bothered to find the bottle. They didn’t need it anyway, pre-come already easing the discomfort as Albert continued to grind against him.

One of his ankles hooked around the back of Chris’ knee and as his hand landed on Albert’s thigh, kneading the muscle, he thought of something. ‘I've got an idea.’ Chris whispered into his ear.

‘Yeah?’ Albert studied him with lustful interest.

‘One sec.’ He searched around for the lube, they were definitely going to need it now. The bottle hadn’t gone far and Chris poured lube into his hands, stroking Albert’s thigh again. ‘Spread your legs for me?’

Fear flickered through Albert’s eyes then vanished as he figured out Chris’ intentions, giving him a small smile. He propped his leg up to allow Chris to caress his inner thighs, slicking them with lube. His cock twitched at the attention, and Chris moved his hand higher.

‘Don’t want any chafing.’ He offered in explanation.

Albert’s smile turned into a smirk, then to an open-mouthed gasp of pleasure. Chris smeared lube along the underside of his cock, cupping his balls and fondling them gently, then massaged the sensitive spot just behind them until Albert whimpered. He grabbed at Chris desperately, and Chris kissed him to reassure him, letting him rut against his hand and stomach. His own arousal was getting difficult to ignore, but he wanted Albert to be relaxed and enjoying himself before they kept going.

Albert had his own ideas about that, his hand drifting to circle Chris’ cock loosely and guide it between his legs. ‘Give me your cock.’ He murmured commandingly, and Chris was powerless to resist. Muscular thighs tightened around Chris as he thrust between them, moaning at the wet heat. It was as good as being inside Albert, and Chris shifted his angle to push his cock up against Albert’s balls and along his ass. Albert whimpered, clutching Chris to him, their foreheads touching as their gazes met.

Time seemed to slow as Chris drowned in his eyes, noticing all the little details in crystal clarity, the faint glow that lit pale eyelashes, the light orange irises that had darkened to a deeper colour with arousal. And he saw an emotion in those eyes that he’d both longed for and dreaded.

Albert cried out as he came, taking Chris with him as his muscles clenched. He thrust a few more times between Albert’s thighs before stilling and just holding him, his mind catching up slowly. Albert was still in love with him, in that moment of complete vulnerability and intimacy they couldn’t lie to each other and Chris felt it with absolute certainty. He couldn’t find the words, and it seemed neither could Albert, so they kissed instead, staying there together as long as they dared.

Eventually they had to return downstairs, Chris cleaning up in the attached bathroom first. 

 

Louis’ gaze travelled over Albert’s naked body, lingering on the obvious evidence marking his thighs. ‘He looks well used. Did he satisfy you? I hate for my friends to be disappointed.’

‘Yes, he did.’ Chris said shortly, unwilling to say more.

It seemed to be enough because Louis nodded and gestured at Albert. ‘Go clean yourself up, then get back here quickly, we’re not done.’ Albert paled but he didn’t look at either of them, just nodded obediently and left. Louis stared at his ass as he walked away. ‘Worth every penny.’

Chris balled his hands into fists and fantasised about killing him. He wanted to leave so he wouldn’t have to watch Albert be abused anymore, but he also couldn’t make himself go when the man he loved was trapped here. The man who loved him, as unbelievable as that should’ve been. Albert barely looked at him again, enduring the pain with passive detachment, but Chris hoped he knew that he was still here. Jill got herself out of more games by pretending to fall asleep on the couch, and Chris put an arm around her and held her the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: torture, rape (gang rape, non-explicit rape with an object, forced orgasm), some description of injuries

‘Ouch.’

‘Don’t be a baby.’ Jill raised an eyebrow as she not so gently tugged the bandage tighter over his knuckles. ‘Maybe you’ll think twice before punching a wall again. You’re lucky you didn’t break your hand.’

Chris made a fist, hissing at the pain as he stretched the scraped skin. ‘I can’t take this any more. Waiting around for all this bureaucratic bullshit when Wesker’s stuck with that bastard.’

‘I know.’ Jill said sympathetically. ‘But if we don’t do this properly innocent people’ll be at risk.’

He knew that, and he hated that for once he didn’t care about them. Protecting people from bioweapons was the entire reason they’d founded the BSAA and yet here he was ready to throw it all away for… whatever he and Wesker were to each other. Enemies, lovers, both. He’d never know if he didn’t rescue Wesker. ‘I can’t lose him again. Not now.’

Jill patted his shoulder reassuringly but her voice was hard. ‘Then get yourself together, Chris. We can’t afford any mistakes when we’re so close.’

‘Right. You’re right.’ Chris gave her a brisk nod and a thumbs-up which she returned. ‘Good to go.’ For all their sakes he’d do his best to keep his temper under control, but when the time came it was going to be that bastard’s face he broke his hand on and not a wall.

 

Three weeks had passed since the first of these parties they’d been invited to and Chris had hoped to never attend another. He glared at the outside of the ornate mansion, he had a pathological dislike of them ever since Raccoon City, and even though what occurred inside this one was different, it was no less horrible.

‘We should go in, John.’ Jill emphasized his fake name to get him back on track.

‘Yeah.’ Chris grunted, but as they approached the door he managed to get himself into the mindset of being undercover.

They were shown into the same room as before, the same group of people greeting them cheerfully. Louis, as their host, waved them in to sit down. ‘Please, have a drink. We’re waiting for some late arrivals.’ It was impossible not to notice what the naked man kneeling between his legs was doing, the hand buried in blond hair keeping Wesker’s mouth firmly in place.

Chris plastered a smile on his face as he accepted a drink with an unnatural forced calm. At least there was enough ambient noise and idle conversation that Chris was spared from listening to the sounds of Wesker sucking Louis off.

The missing guests arrived shortly after, Louis letting them get themselves settled before continuing with his plans for the evening. ‘I do hope you enjoyed yourselves last time.’ Louis nodded politely at Chris and Jill. ‘But today I’m not in the mood for games.’ Wesker’s shoulders tensed as if he knew what was coming, and Chris braced himself too. ‘Free-for-all.’ He yanked Wesker’s head off his cock, planted a foot in the middle of his chest and kicked him into the centre of the room.

Several pairs of hungry eyes fixed on Wesker as if they were a pack of starving dogs who’d just scented a juicy piece of meat, Wesker cowering like trapped prey that knew it was too late to run. Two of the men got up immediately, someone else clapping as the show began. Chris growled underneath his fake smile, holding Jill’s hand too tightly.

Wesker tried to curl up to protect himself as one of them kicked him in the stomach, but the other circled around to hit him in the lower back. The faint pained whine he made seemed to drive them on, more vicious kicks and punches landing on tender spots until he cried out again. That was what they wanted, Chris realised, to hear how much pain he was in as they hurt him. And they were hurting him, dark bruises already rapidly forming where he was struck, in some places the blows had been hard enough to break the skin and make him bleed.

A few people laughed as the two men hauled Wesker roughly onto his hands and knees, one of them grabbing his hair. ‘Open your mouth, slut.’ He pushed his cock against Wesker’s split, bloody lips, using the grip in his hair as leverage to force himself in. Wesker was trembling, his eyes flicking to the other man undoing his pants, then closing as the man’s fingers dug into his ass to spread him open. Having a cock down his throat didn’t muffle Wesker’s scream as the other man suddenly thrust into him from behind. He was pinned between them, his body jerking back and forth like a broken puppet as they raped him. Chris averted his gaze but when he looked around all he saw was the eager excitement of the people watching and visibly getting off on it.

When the first set of rapists were finished they shoved Wesker unceremoniously to the floor, leaving him there for the next person to take their turn. Wesker hunched in on himself, drooling a mix of blood and come onto the carpet, more leaking down his legs as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, just lying there and waiting for the abuse to continue. It made Chris so furious that the edges of his vision actually went red, but he merely sat and watched, outwardly maintaining his cover while inwardly seething in rage.

The woman named Laura approached him next, apparently she had a very particular obsession with burning Wesker since she already had the hot poker in her hand. She jabbed it into his side to force him onto his back, smiling as he whined past gritted teeth. Unlike the last time Wesker didn’t attempt to attack her, only biting his lip and whimpering as the heated metal touched his skin. Laura was thorough, tracing lines between his bruises with the poker, sometimes stopping to push it in harder, and Chris felt queasy as he thought he smelled cooking flesh. Wesker screamed more than once, his fingers clutching at the carpet under him as he convulsed.

As she reached his thigh she paused again, tapping him with the poker thoughtfully while she sniggered. ‘Spread your legs, pretty thing.’ He was shaking as he obeyed, Laura using the poker to guide his legs apart before smacking the hot metal into his genitals. Wesker screamed in agony, instinctively closing his legs and bringing his hands down to protect his groin, burning himself worse in the attempt. Laura let him roll onto his side, and for a moment Chris thought she was done, that maybe there was a limit to her cruelty. But she kept prodding at Wesker, littering his skin with small burns, until he was positioned on his stomach.

Instead of watching her rape him with the poker, Chris stared at Wesker’s face as he sobbed, the tears running down his cheeks washing clean lines through the blood. He knew his duty to the BSAA, but he also knew he’d never forgive them or himself for letting this happen. Blood dripped onto the thick carpet surrounding Wesker, likely ruining it, and Chris felt an odd sense of sadness at seeing something else beautiful destroyed by uncaring monsters.

A chair creaked as someone stood up, Chris’ quick glance lingering as he recognised Rousseau. The brutal way he’d raped Wesker was etched into Chris’ mind and he couldn’t bear to watch anymore, feeling guilty that he had the option of looking away while Wesker suffered. A few piercing, desperate screams rang out before Wesker simply cried continuously, the low muffled sound almost covered up by the groans of pleasure from the man raping him. Chris took a long drink in a vain attempt to block it all out.

Except keeping his cover required more than just observing, and his facade almost cracked as Louis glanced in his direction. ‘Not interested, John?’

Chris bared his teeth in the best smile he could manage. ‘Yeah.’ He didn’t have a chance of asking for any privacy here, this was nothing less than a gang rape, and the spectators were baying for blood.

Rousseau had Wesker bent over a table, a big hand holding his arms twisted behind his back. He politely waited for Chris to get his own grip on Wesker before leaving.

Wesker was trembling violently, gasping in air between shallow sobs, his body twitching as if he was trying to escape but there was no coordinated awareness behind the small movements. Chris doubted that he had any idea what was happening anymore beyond the recurring, overwhelming pain. He had no clue how he was going to fake this, even if he’d been capable of getting hard under these circumstances he refused to participate in actually raping Wesker. But he had to do something convincing.

Slowly, he unzipped his pants, then started rubbing himself against Wesker’s ass, the blood and come seeping into his boxers and onto his skin making him feel ill, and he knew that even that minimal movement was hurting Wesker. Chris closed his hands gently around Wesker’s wrists, feeling the man’s erratic pulse in his fingers as he pinned them to the table next to his head so he could lean over. He murmured so quietly he could barely hear himself, but he hoped that Wesker’s enhanced hearing would pick up the words and recognise his voice. ‘Al, it’s me. I’m not going to hurt you.’ Maybe it was only his imagination, but Chris thought he felt Wesker relax a tiny bit as he spoke and he mouthed at Wesker’s neck and nuzzled into his hair as much as he dared.

Footsteps behind him made him straighten up hastily, but it was only Jill. She pressed up against him as Chris frowned in confusion. ‘I wanna see you fuck him, babe.’ Then her tone dropped to a whisper. ‘They can’t see.’

It took Chris a moment before he understood what she meant, she’d positioned herself in a way that blocked the view of the others. He quickly took advantage of it by pretending to rape Wesker, moving his hips and moaning as Jill giggled in encouragement, patting him as if excited. Wesker made pained noises, but Chris couldn’t tell if he was playing along or if he just hurt. When he figured the display had seemed real enough he stopped, reluctantly releasing Wesker, and then fighting back the urge to punch the man who grabbed for him next.

Jill took him firmly by the hand, leading him off with an airy announcement to the room. ‘I need to borrow my husband for a moment.’

They went to a bathroom so Chris could clean up, near enough that they could hear Wesker screaming through the closed door. Chris wiped himself clean, staring at the blood on his clothes and the towel in detached bemusement. ‘I’m sorry, Chris.’ She hugged him and he finally responded as his numb horror faded at her supportive gesture.

‘I can’t let this happen again. Even if the BSAA orders me to wait. I can’t.’

‘We can’t. And we won’t.’ Jill hugged him tighter. ‘But there’s nothing we can do right now. Stay on mission.’ They waited there for a bit longer before Chris gathered the self-control to return.

A few knowing looks were directed at them as they came back into the main room and sat down. Chris ignored them, more concerned with what they’d done to Wesker in his absence. He was lying on the floor, his back and shoulders torn up in a series of deep scratches that Chris recognised as self-inflicted. Whatever the man currently standing over him had tried to do to him, he’d fought back and payed the price when the control chip activated. The man looked pissed, kicking at Wesker’s now passive form. He struck one of Wesker’s hands away from his body then brought his foot down repeatedly on the slender fingers. The delicate bones audibly snapped under the assault. Wesker merely whimpered, so drained of strength that he couldn’t even scream anymore. Predictably the man raped him too, but Wesker didn’t seem to feel that either.

‘It appears we’re at the end of our fun for tonight.’ Louis pursed his lips in thought as he considered Wesker. ‘Heel, pet.’

Despite his previous unresponsiveness the sharp command made Wesker flinch. He laboriously got himself onto his hands and knees, lowering his head in submission as he dragged his abused body towards Louis to sit at his feet.

‘Good boy.’ Louis stroked his hair, then hooked his fingers into the ring on the collar around Wesker’s neck. ‘I think you deserve a treat.’

Wesker tried to shake his head, but Louis wrenched the collar sideways, choking him. His hand reached up to try to ease the pressure off his throat, which only made Louis pull harder as he resisted. When he let go Wesker bent over and coughed harshly.

Louis patted the couch beside him. ‘Up, pet.’

He obeyed this time, painfully climbing onto the couch and lying on his back. For a split second his gaze met Chris’, one of his eyes swollen shut, the other wide in utter terror before they closed. Louis reached between his legs to take Wesker’s sore, bruised cock in his hand, rubbing him surprisingly gently. Wesker was already crying again, quiet stuttering sobs that sounded lost and hopeless as his body responded to the stimulation. It was nothing less than another form of rape, and if Chris had thought he hated Louis before he hadn’t realised how deeply it was possible for him to loathe someone. 

Louis stroked Wesker’s cock in a steady rhythm, forcing him into unwilling arousal despite the extreme pain he was in. Wesker’s sobs were broken by breathy moans of pleasure, mindlessly bucking up into the hand on him as Louis drove him closer to orgasm. When he came he made a noise that was far more pain than pleasure, shuddering as Louis continued to work his cock until he was writhing in overstimulation. Louis finally released him with a last condescending pat to his cock. ‘Good boy. You can go now, pet.’

Wesker couldn’t get to his feet, falling awkwardly twice before he gave up and started simply crawling towards the door.

Chris was halfway to him before he even noticed he’d stood up.

‘John?’ Louis questioned him.

His mind scrambled for an excuse as he forced his fake smile onto his face. ‘Sorry, I thought since he’s having so much trouble I could help him out.’ He drawled the last few words in a leering tone to make sure they knew what he meant.

‘Ah. Go ahead then.’ Louis gave him a grin and a permissive wave.

Chris waited impatiently as Wesker crawled to the door, wishing he could just pick him up and carry him. As soon as they made it to the hall he tried. Wesker stared at him in dull fear without any hint of recognition. For a heart-stopping moment he feared that Albert was gone, that he’d been destroyed by the sick bastard who’d tortured him. ‘Al?’

He blinked sluggishly, furrowing his brow as if trying to process Chris’ voice. ‘This way.’ Trickles of blood and come ran down his chin as he slurred the words out, and Chris fought the urge to wipe his lips clean before Wesker turned away to continue along the hall. At least he’d responded in some small way.

When they made it to wherever they were going, Wesker shoved the door open then hunched over on his knees in front of the toilet.

Chris gave him some space while he threw up noisily, locking the door and then uncomfortably looking around the fancy bathroom. It was much bigger than the one he and Jill had been in earlier, the shower alone looked like four people could fit in it. He spied a glass by the sink and poured some water into it, kneeling beside Albert as he finished retching and flushed the toilet.

One orange eye widened in surprise at seeing him there, but Albert reached out for the glass anyway. His hand was shaking so badly that Chris made extra sure he had a firm grip on the glass before letting it go. Albert rinsed his mouth out first then drank the remainder of the water before handing it back to him.

‘Do you want more?’

He shook his head, cradling his broken hand with his other one.

Chris glanced at the empty glass in his hand then back up, unsure of what to say or do to help further. Albert’s body was covered in bruises, reddened burns, and bleeding lacerations, and Chris was terrified of what kind of internal damage he might have. His healing abilities might keep him alive through trauma that would kill a normal human, but that also meant that he suffered more too. ‘Al?’ Chris asked tentatively.

‘You came back. For me.’ His voice was hoarse and broken from all the screaming, but his gaze was amazingly steady as he focussed on Chris.

‘Of course I did, Al, I pro-’ 

‘Chris.’ Albert sighed, a trace of annoyance in his name behind the exhaustion. ‘Shut up, and just… just…’ He inched closer until he could lean over to put his forehead on Chris’ shoulder, the rest of his body gradually following until he was completely collapsed against Chris.

Chris was afraid to even breathe, nevermind touch him, so he stayed rigid and unmoving.

Albert didn’t seem to be that comfortable either but in a different way, fidgeting restlessly and whining quietly.

‘What’s wrong?’ Aside from everything about this entire situation, Chris chided himself.

‘Fucking control chip. Still hurts.’ He spat the words out venomously then slumped as if that had used up all his remaining energy.

‘Shit. Can I do something?’

Albert hesitated. ‘Rub my back.’

‘Ok.’ Chris remembered that unexpectedly helping last time, and he pressed his palm to the spot on Albert’s spine between his shoulders, massaging it gently in small circles. ‘Here? Like this?’

‘Yeah.’

Now that he had his arms around Albert, Chris could feel that he was trembling, the constant slight shiver not stopping even when Albert relaxed as the pain in his back eased. The blond hair brushing Chris’ cheek was stiff with drying blood and sweat, and he smelled frankly awful, but Chris wouldn’t have let him go for the world.

Albert was the one who wanted him to let go though. ‘I need a shower.’

Chris looked over Albert’s raw wounds, many of them still openly bleeding, and asked hesitantly. ‘Are you sure-’

‘I have to get him off!’ Albert violently pulled away from Chris to huddle up on the floor. ‘I have to…’ He hugged himself, moaning quietly, then looked back up at Chris, his expression strangely twisted in rage. ‘Why don’t you just fuck me like they do?’

‘What are you-’

‘Why do you even care? I’m nothing but a BOW. A manufactured _thing_.’ Albert had sunk his fingers into his bicep, scoring a bloody furrow into his skin with a repetitive motion.

‘You’re not a thing, Al.’ Chris knew he shouldn’t touch Albert but he was hurting himself. He caught Albert’s hand in his own, winding their fingers together to make him stop. ‘You’re a man. A man I love very deeply.’

Albert’s breathing was rough as he clutched at Chris’ hand desperately. ‘Chris, I don’t think I can survive this much longer.’

‘Don’t say that. I’ll get you out of here soon, Al, I swear. Whatever it takes.’ If he was forced to choose between innocent, but unknown people dying, or losing Albert, who he loved, he’d live with the consequences of that selfish decision.

Albert coughed out a horrible laugh of disbelief. ‘Your mission-’

‘Fuck the mission.’ Chris snapped. ‘Haven’t you been listening? You’re more important.’

‘I…’ Albert swallowed thickly, then hesitantly brought their joined hands up to Chris’ face, brushing along his cheek. He leaned forwards, bringing his mouth towards Chris’, and it was Chris’ turn to flinch back from his rank breath. Under the bruises, Albert’s cheeks went pink in humiliation as he turned away. ‘I know. I’m disgusting-’

Chris tilted his head to interrupt him with a kiss, both the need to reassure Albert and the simple desire to feel the soft press of Albert’s lips against his own stronger than his revulsion.

Albert made a muffled whimper, pressing closer against Chris before breaking the kiss off. ‘Shower.’

He left Albert sitting on the floor while he turned the water on and checked the temperature and pressure, studying the seat built into the wall of the shower. Albert was probably in too much pain to sit on it comfortably, and Chris already knew he couldn’t stand. ‘Al? Would it be ok if I helped you?’ They’d taken care of each other back in STARS when one of them had been injured on a mission, not just major things like making sure medications were taken correctly, and re-wrapping wounds, but the small things as well. Chris remembered, and he could tell that Albert did too.

‘I’d like that.’ 

‘If I sit on the bottom, you could lie on me.’ He grabbed some washcloths and soap before seating himself, leaning against the wall for support. Albert crawled over, letting out a quiet hiss of pain as he settled himself in Chris’ lap. Normally having Albert’s naked body pressed up to his own would be arousing but he was so beat up that Chris’ only instinct was to protect him. He slumped against Chris’ chest, his unbroken arm going around Chris’ waist as he let out an almost sobbing sigh of relief.

The warm water cleared away some of the blood, but most of it was too dried or heavily caked on to come off so easily. ‘Al? I’m going to get this blood off you, ok?’ Chris waved a cloth where Albert could see it so he’d understand.

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m going to do your hair first.’ Despite the warning, Albert flinched as Chris touched his hair.

Before Chris could ask he answered. ‘I’m fine.’

He didn’t know if he completely believed Albert, the memory of Louis petting him possessively was still too clear in his mind, and he knew that was what Albert was thinking of as well. ‘I always liked washing your hair.’ Chris offered as a distraction while he gently massaged shampoo into Albert’s scalp.

Albert snorted faintly, but he did relax at the sound of Chris’ voice. ‘You just liked the excuse to run your hands through it.’

‘Guilty.’ He combed the strands between his fingers until the water rinsed the red stains out of the blond, then carefully wiped Albert’s face clean of both the blood and the shampoo. The black eye looked bad but on inspection Chris didn’t think there was any serious damage to the eye itself. Most of the blood on Albert’s lips seemed to be from the inside of his mouth and a few exterior cuts, he wasn’t coughing up enough to suspect any worse injuries. Unless they’d already healed. There was no way to know and nothing he could do about it now anyway, best to focus on what he could actually do to help.

Chris continued, washing Albert’s back and chest, pausing patiently when he flinched until he told Chris he was fine again. He avoided the broken hand because he wasn’t sure what to do with it, watching as Albert simply held it under the water to clean it a little.

‘There’s a first aid kit under the sink.’ Albert answered the unspoken question.

‘Ok.’

Even with the blood gone Albert was still a wreck, the bruises and burns ugly against his pale skin, and Chris put his arms around him, kissing his hair. ‘Is it ok if I keep going?’

Albert stared down at the mess still on his thighs and shuddered. ‘Yeah, I just want them off me.’ He buried his face in Chris’ shoulder as Chris rubbed the cloth between his legs as gently as he possibly could. His genitals were still swollen, the blood and come washing off to reveal the painful burns along the inside of his thigh. Albert pressed his open mouth harder against Chris’ shoulder, the edges of his teeth cutting into Chris’ skin as he tried to stifle the whimpers of pain.

The noises broke Chris’ heart all over again, but he also knew how badly Albert wanted to be clean. Fresh, bright blood had soaked the cloth when Chris took it out from between Albert’s legs, and he panicked. He held it firmly against Albert’s ass, praying that the fabric would staunch the bleeding, and that it wasn’t from severe internal damage.

Albert’s nails sank into his back as he held onto Chris even tighter.

‘I’m sorry.’ Chris knew how useless the words were when he couldn’t save him yet, hugging him with his other arm. ‘I’m so sorry.’

They stayed there until Chris was sure he’d stopped bleeding, even though Albert was still shaking and crying softly into his neck. ‘Let’s get you dried off.’ Chris nuzzled his hair cautiously. ‘Al?’

‘Ok.’

He helped Albert out of the shower, wrapping him in a towel as Albert glanced at the sink.

‘I need to brush my teeth too.’

Chris followed him as he limped over, putting his arms around him to hold the towel on since Albert only had one good hand. Albert winced as he spit blood from re-opened cuts into the sink along with the toothpaste.

‘You said there’s a first aid kit?’

‘Yeah.’ Albert tapped the cupboard, swaying in exhaustion. Chris flipped the toilet seat down so he could sit on it, angry at how fragile and scared he looked as he huddled under the towel. The first aid kit had everything he needed and more, sterile pads, antiseptic, needle and thread, even a basic set of splints. ‘It’s… nice… to have you here.’ Albert said quietly as Chris studied the contents. He wished neither of them were here at all, giving Albert a tender kiss instead of voicing his anger.

The self-inflicted gash on Albert’s arm needed stitches, as did the deeper ones on his back. He sat passively as Chris worked, aside from the constant slight trembling the only sign of pain he showed was a faint hiss every so often. Chris bandaged the worst of the cuts and burns, even though Albert could heal that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get an infection considering how battered he was. As Chris finished splinting his fingers he glanced up into the orange eyes watching him closely. ‘Keep your promise, Chris. Please.’ The words were no louder than a breath of air, but Chris felt them like a blow.

‘I will, Al. I will save you no matter what.’

Albert kissed him roughly, his eyes wide and scared, tugging Chris up against him desperately before reluctantly releasing him. ‘I should go.’

‘Do you have somewhere to sleep?’

‘Yeah.’ Albert didn’t offer any more information.

Chris didn’t like it but he didn’t like any of this and so he didn’t push for details. He kissed Albert one more time in promise. ‘I love you.’

‘Chris.’ His name was as much a caress as the fingers Albert brushed over his cheek, and the way he looked at Chris was as good as if he’d said it back. Then he left.

Chris watched Albert limp down the hallway, and it took all his willpower not to follow him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.  
> However, there is a plot development that might be upsetting\concerning. I hope you can trust me to resolve it, but if you're seriously worried, there's a spoiler in the author's notes at the end.

Two days that felt like an eternity later, Chris was back outside Louis Argus’ mansion, this time accompanied by a full BSAA assault team. The auction itself had been raided by another team only a few hours earlier and now all they were waiting for was confirmation that the records of the buyers were secured before they started arresting them. Chris checked his gun again, impatient to get in there, and get Wesker out. He could sense that Jill was chafing at the delay too, her fingers tapping rhythmically on her own gun. Finally the radio crackled as permission to proceed came through and they dashed towards the mansion.

Chris pounded on Argus’ door with his fist, shoving aside the shocked butler who had opened the door for him as he entered. ‘Louis Argus, you’re under arrest.’ He shouted, motioning to his team to fan out.

The man himself walked down the stairs calmly. ‘What for? Who are you?’

‘BSAA.’ Chris narrowed his eyes as he watched Argus, his gut instinct telling him something was wrong, the man was too calm, too confident. ‘You’re in illegal possession of BOWs.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know what any of that means.’ But the nasty smirk on his face as he studied Chris told a very different story.

‘This should clear it up.’ Jill threw the official warrant of search and seizure at him.

Argus delicately picked it up off the floor without bothering to look at it. ‘I think I should call my lawyer.’

‘You do that.’ Chris snapped at him, then barked orders at his team. ‘You two, watch him. The rest of you start a grid search.’

He and Jill went directly to the hallway he’d last seen Albert in, glancing into the bathroom first. The blood that had been left from Albert’s injuries had been cleaned up as thoroughly as if it had never been there, and while that wasn’t unexpected, for some reason a chill ran down Chris’ spine at the thought. They continued along the hallway, checking each room carefully. Bedrooms, sitting rooms, but no sign that any of them had been occupied recently, and definitely nothing that indicated Albert had ever been in any of them. The room by room search was uncomfortably familiar, this wasn’t the first time he’d tried to find Wesker in a mansion… A quick glance at Jill’s stiff shoulders and taut expression told him that she was also remembering Arklay. ‘Jill?’

‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Chris.’ She said quietly.

‘Yeah, me too.’ He trusted her instincts as much as his own, and he didn’t like her confirmation of his worries.

There was a small set of stairs at the far end of the hall and lacking any other options Chris went down them. The rooms at the bottom were far less luxurious than the upper ones, probably servants’ quarters originally, though they were all vacant now. Chris turned into another much larger room that was partitioned into low stalls like a stable for small horses. The odd layout made him pause, but it was the deep gashes in the floor that caught his attention.

‘These are kennels.’ Jill’s voice echoed in the cavernous room.

‘It sure as hell isn’t dogs Argus has in here.’ Chris knelt to study the claw marks scored into the stone, thinking of the multiple creatures that could have made them. ‘Not live ones anyway.’

‘I know you’re right, Chris, but whatever he was keeping here is gone.’ Jill had walked into one of the stalls, and he looked up as she rattled the heavy duty chains fastened to the wall.

The iron collar attached to the ends reminded him of the one Wesker had been wearing and he felt sick. ‘Albert slept here.’

She gave him a sympathetic glance but didn’t disagree.

‘That piece of shit kept him down here like an animal.’ Chris clenched his fists as he stood, the dread that been steadily growing since he’d seen Argus’ smug smirk finally crystallising into something concrete. ‘Argus knew we were coming. He’s taken Albert somewhere else.’ Chris turned his back on the empty room, demanding a status update from his team. ‘Report.’

‘Sir, preliminary sweep of the house and grounds are clean. No sign of BOWs.’

‘We think they’ve been moved to another location but search again.’ He hissed in frustration. ‘Tear this place apart and find something we can use against Argus.’

Chris stormed back up to the main floor to confront the man. ‘Where is he?’ Snarling, Chris grabbed Argus by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

‘This is assault.’ Argus protested, looking around as if someone would help him.

‘Where the fuck is he? What did you do to him?’ He slammed Argus into the wall again.

‘Nothing!’ The man lied as his expression twisted in delight at Chris’ anger. ‘I don’t know what these BOWs are, but I can assure you there were never any here.’

‘Let him go, Chris.’ Jill ordered firmly as she put a hand on his arm to restrain him, but before Chris could argue she kept speaking. ‘Arrest him. He’s still listed as a client in the files and that gives us enough to hold him.’

Reluctantly, Chris handcuffed him, taking some small pleasure in the way he winced when the cuffs pinched him. ‘Get him out of here.’ He shoved Argus at the nearest BSAA agent, then just stared blankly at the room, whispering under his breath. ‘Oh god, Al, where are you?’

 

A more thorough search still hadn’t revealed any clues to Wesker’s current whereabouts, or any traces that BOWs had even been in the mansion in the first place. The other properties Argus owned had also been raided with the same result.

Chris refused to relent or give up hope, throwing himself into overseeing the arrests of the others who had participated in Argus’ parties while the BSAA’s interrogators worked on Argus himself. Laura the pyromaniac had lit herself on fire rather than be taken into custody, and burned down half her estate with her. Fortunately the only other casualties were the BOWs she had purchased, none of which were human-sized, so that ruled out Wesker as a possible victim. Some of Argus’ friends were missing from the lists of buyers though, most noticeably Rousseau, and Chris was furious that there seemed to be no way to track him down. Meanwhile, Argus still wasn’t talking despite the BSAA’s best efforts and Chris was rapidly losing his already worn-thin patience.

 

He sat in the interrogation room, smug and arrogant and silent. Chris stared at him through the one-way mirror and imagined punching his face until it was unrecognisable pulp. ‘Let me in there and I’ll get him to admit everything.’

‘Hitting him will only make things worse.’ Jill cautioned.

Chris turned on her in anger. ‘Worse? Albert’s out there, and only he knows where.’

‘And if I thought for a minute that you hitting him would help, I’d cheer you on.’ She raised an eyebrow in disappointment at his misaimed rage.

He sighed. ‘Sorry, Jill.’

‘It’s ok.’ Jill hesitated, frowning. ‘Chris, I know how worried you are, but don’t do anything stupid.’

 

Rationally, Chris knew he shouldn’t be doing this but he no longer cared about being rational or that he’d been ordered to stay away from Argus. After two weeks, and with Wesker still missing, he was frantic with anger and panic and he needed to make Argus confess. He banged open the door to Argus’ cell, pushing him up against the wall.

‘John. How nice to see you again.’ Argus greeted him mockingly.

‘Where is he, you son of a bitch.’ Chris demanded. ‘What did you do to him?’

‘I don’t kn-’

Chris hit him in the jaw. ‘Drop the act. The cameras are off.’

Argus rubbed his face, grinning at Chris and chuckling. ‘Oh, I did lots of things to him. Would you like to hear about them?’

‘You piece of shit.’ Chris knocked his head into the wall as he shook him. ‘Where is he?’

Argus smiled cruelly as he leaned over to whisper in his ear. ‘You’ll never see him again. Your precious slut’s dead.’

‘No.’ Chris growled the denial and hit him again.

‘Yes. The BSAA forced my hand and I had to eliminate my little toys.’

‘No.’ The denial was weaker this time because the explanation made a horrible kind of sense. It would’ve been difficult to move live BOWs, but dead ones… and with them disposed of there was no direct evidence to link him to bio-terrorism, just a piece of paper from a dubious black market auction house. Chris shook his head. Wesker couldn’t be dead, he’d survived impossible injuries before… but the memory of Albert bleeding in his arms was still fresh in his mind. If too much damage was inflicted quickly enough maybe his healing simply couldn’t keep up.

‘He cried your name when he died.’ Argus verbally twisted the knife a little deeper into Chris’ heart as he watched Chris with a triumphant smirk.

Chris smashed his fist into the smug face, blood flying, then hit him again as Argus stared at him in surprise. The blow dropped Argus to the floor, but Chris hadn’t had enough. This bastard had killed the only man he’d ever loved. He picked Argus up, punching him over and over, unable to think past his rage and sorrow. Someone yelled at him and then he was forcibly pulled off the man and thrown out into the hall.

Chris was temporarily suspended over his behaviour, but he couldn’t find the will to even care.

 

Drinking didn’t help. Chris didn’t even need to close his eyes to picture Albert’s mutilated body thrown in a ditch somewhere like he was garbage. It hadn’t taken long to confirm Argus’ story, someone at the auction had tipped him off when the BSAA had raided it and he’d gotten rid of the physical proof of his crimes. While Chris had been standing uselessly outside that mansion waiting for the go ahead, Albert had been murdered. He took another drink, punishing himself by wondering if Albert had really called for him when he was dying, if he’d believed right up until the end that Chris would still save him. If only he’d gone in immediately, then Albert would be alive. But he hadn’t, and that decision would haunt him forever.

On top of that, Argus had been released. He was still under heavy suspicion but the BSAA couldn’t prosecute him for anything serious. Chris considered the glass in his hand, thinking again about his plan to kill Argus. It would be the end of his career and probably his life, but wherever Albert was now he deserved the peace of knowing that bastard was dead too.

When his landline rang he just stared at it vacantly. ‘Pick up your phone, Chris.’ Jill’s voice ordered him over the message. It clicked off and his cell rang instead.

He didn’t have to move to answer so he obeyed Jill’s command. ‘What?’ 

‘One of the people who worked at the auction turned Argus in in exchange for a lighter sentence. We’re going to arrest him now.’

‘I want to be there.’ Chris gripped the phone tighter.

‘I know, but only if you’re sober.’ Jill warned.

‘I am now.’ He was, all his pent-up rage burning away the drunken haze as he saw another chance to finally get some long overdue revenge.

 

‘You’re under arrest.’ Chris announced. ‘And this time it’s gonna stick.’ He’d expected the same level of calm contempt as before but instead Argus completely panicked. The man had bolted halfway up the stairs before Chris set off in pursuit, cursing at his escape. Upstairs the hallway was quiet and deserted, and he slowed down, wary of an ambush. Chris raised his gun, poking his head cautiously into the first room on his right. ‘Clear.’

‘Clear.’ Jill whispered tersely as she checked the left side.

Eventually, they found Argus in an office, rummaging frantically through a wall safe. He gasped as he saw them, pulling something metal out of the safe and swinging it around to point it at them.

‘Drop it!’ Chris shouted. Instead Argus raised the gun and Chris shot him twice in the chest.

Argus looked down at the holes in his body then back at Chris in utter disbelief as he started drooling blood. The weapon fell out of his hand as he abruptly collapsed into the chair by the desk.

Chris did nothing but stand there and watch him choke on his own blood, as impassively as he’d been forced to watch this man abuse Albert. There was still a grim satisfaction to be found in his death, even as hollow as Chris felt with Albert gone. After Argus had stopped twitching, Chris turned his back on the body dismissively. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

 

Life went on, indifferent to Chris’ second loss of the man he loved, Albert’s death another wound added to the other scars on his heart from everyone he’d failed to save. And just like all the other times before, he survived and soldiered forwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER
> 
> Chris is being lied to, Wesker is not dead.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly faster update since I'm not going to be mean and make you wait for the comfort :)  
> Warnings: some description of injuries, and lots of fluffy comfort

A few months later the BSAA had received reports that someone was selling off BOWs in yet another black market and since Chris and Jill had the experience they got the assignment despite Chris’ protests. He’d had his fill of BOW auctions for a lifetime.

This auction couldn’t possibly have been any further from the other in character. It was located in a rundown warehouse, strictly cash-only, no socialising encouraged. And the BOWs they were selling weren’t much to look at either, discards from labs or left injured in war zones when they’d served their purpose. They were all beat-up, and missing limbs, some of them were actual corpses, but apparently people bought those too. Chris never would have thought he could feel sorry for something that had tried to tear him in half and eat him, but these BOWs were pathetic shells of once dangerous creatures.

The dead hunter up on stage was sold off and a man dragged another body out, the shape more human than the last. A normal zombie, Chris assumed, but as he started to glance away his eyes caught on the colour of the matted, dirty, blond hair. His gaze slid to a half-concealed face that he would have recognised anywhere, his heart pounding in shock and then in anger. Even in death Wesker was being denied any dignity or peace, his body still just property to be sold off so someone could make a quick buck.

‘Lot 5. Male, alive, former experimental subject. Start your bids.’ The auctioneer called out.

Alive? Chris couldn’t process the word, and then he saw the shallow rise and fall of Wesker’s chest. He was breathing. Albert was alive. Stunned into motionlessness, Chris could only stare at him with rising guilt as his eyes traced the vicious half-healed wounds marring pale skin. Albert was in even worse shape than the last time Chris had seen him, his body covered in jagged lacerations and dark bruises both old and new as if his healing wasn’t working properly. He was barely conscious, without the strength to even raise his head on his own but when he moved a bit, Chris was horrified to see that his right arm was missing, severed at the shoulder.

This was Chris’ fault, he’d given up hope and stopped searching, had abandoned Albert when he needed Chris the most.

‘Sold.’

‘No.’ Chris gritted his teeth as he watched Albert be pulled off stage, the rage at seeing his lover treated as another BOW to be bought and abused all over again snapping him out of his frozen state. This was not going to happen a second time, he wouldn’t allow it.

‘Chris!’ Jill hissed at him as she recognised Wesker too.

Chris ignored her as he slipped through the crowd after the buyer, he had a gun this time, and one way or another he was leaving here with Wesker. The guards took Wesker into a small room at the back of the main warehouse, the buyer following with Chris in pursuit. He peeked through the grubby window to check where everyone was standing. Jill joined him, narrowing her eyes at him in a way that he knew meant they were going to have a serious talk later, but she unholestered her gun, as ready as ever to back him up. Chris gave her a signal directing her to go left and then he shoved the door open. He killed the first guard before he could react, then the buyer as he started to draw his own gun. A shot from behind him took care of the other guard and out of the corner of his eye he saw Jill take up position near the door.

Wesker was a crumpled heap on the ground, not even stirring at the shooting.

‘Al? Albert!’

He didn’t move.

‘I’m sorry, Al, I’m sorry it took so long…’ Chris blinked back tears. ‘Oh god, Al, please.’

Wesker’s head came up slowly, as if it was taking all his energy. A single orange eye stared at him from behind lank blond hair, the other socket a bloody hole. He gurgled something unintelligible at Chris, the attempt at speech enough to crack his already bloody lips open, a fresh trickle running down his chin.

‘It’s me.’ Chris gently brushed his hair off his cheek. ‘I’m getting you out of here. Now.’

Albert moaned, a ruined hand almost touching Chris’ face before his eye rolled back in his head and he fainted.

Chris wrapped his jacket around the battered body to provide some protection before he picked him up. It was too easy, Albert shockingly light and frail in his arms as Chris hugged him to his chest to kiss his forehead, heedless of the blood and sweat. He was still alive, barely breathing, but alive, and Chris didn’t even know how to feel, a mix of guilt, fear, and ecstatic relief making it hard to focus.

‘Stay behind me.’ Jill ordered, hefting a machine gun she’d located while Chris had been preoccupied.

He nodded, but he shifted Albert so that he was carrying him in such a way that he could get to his hand gun if necessary.

She ran across an open area to a stack of crates, Chris jogging after her quickly. There was a door on the far side opposite them and Jill pointed at it.

Then something growled behind Chris. The zombie dog was almost dead but it started to bark at them, the noise attracting more attention as a guard shouted at it to shut up.

‘Go!’ Jill tossed her head in the direction of the door, raising her gun as the guard shouted again.

Chris ran as Jill opened fire. There was a line of vehicles outside and Chris hastily put Albert in the backseat of an unlocked truck, luckily finding the keys under the sunshade. He started the truck up then went back to help Jill.

She didn’t need help, standing in the doorway as she sprayed the interior of the warehouse with bullets. As she stopped to duck into cover and reload, Chris called her name and waved at the truck. Jill nodded, took a couple more blind shots and pelted towards him as a few wild rounds came through the door at them. ‘I’ll drive.’ She didn’t wait for his agreement, firing out the open window as he scrambled into the back, barely managing to close the door before she floored the gas pedal.

Frantically, Chris grabbed for Albert, holding him in a secure embrace to mitigate the roughness of their escape.

Jill drove straight into the gate without slowing, the impact breaking the chain keeping it shut. ‘Chris?’ She asked as the truck raced down the road and she checked the rear view mirror for pursuers.

‘We’re ok.’ He tucked Albert’s head against his shoulder to support him better, feeling some of his desperate panic ease as Albert nuzzled him slightly. ‘We’re ok.’

 

Chris watched from outside the hospital room as Albert was brought back from surgery and hooked up to the various machines that would monitor his vitals. He was still unconscious from the anaesthesia, his skin almost as pale as the white bandages covering him, and he’d lost both weight and muscle. But he was alive, and Chris was going to make damn sure he had the chance to heal in peace and safety.

‘It’s good that he’s breathing on his own.’ The doctor, Cordelia, said encouragingly.

Chris had asked for her specifically, he wanted someone he trusted overseeing Albert’s care, and she’d patched up Chris more than once. He tried to relax, but he was afraid to ask her what he knew he had to. ‘How bad is it?’

‘Some of his organs are missing, and there’s scarring around others that indicates they were likely removed at some point as well and have since regrown.’

The auctioneer’s words replayed in Chris’ mind: former experimental subject. Argus had lied about killing him personally, but Albert had been sent straight from one version of hell to another.

Cordelia must have noticed Chris’ flinch because some of her professional detachment slipped. ‘I’m sorry, that was-’

‘No, I asked. I need to know.’ He nodded at her to continue, mentally steeling himself for the catalogue of abuse inflicted on his lover.

‘His arm was surgically removed and cauterized, but there's no sign of infection. Same with his eye.’ Cordelia glanced at him cautiously as he grunted, but when Chris didn’t offer anything except barely contained rage, she went on. ‘He has a few broken bones, nothing serious, and several lacerations that required stitches.’ She paused, sympathy obvious on her face now. ‘Part of the skin on his back seems to have been flayed off, and the tendons in his legs are severed in multiple places so he can’t walk.’

‘Shit.’ Chris couldn’t hold back anymore, his fists shaking as he clenched them, wishing he had one of the people who had tortured Albert here so he could hurt them for what they’d done.

‘And… he has internal injuries consistent with severe, repeated sexual assault.’

‘Fucking bastards.’ As if cutting Albert into pieces for their twisted experiments wasn’t enough of a violation, they had to continue to abuse him the same way Argus had. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, focussing on calming his breathing. Yelling at the doctor wasn’t going to help Albert. ‘What about the control chip?’

Cordelia hesitated as if concerned about his reaction. ‘Since it’s connected to his nervous system-’

‘You left it inside him?’ Chris hissed in anger.

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I had to. Because of where it’s located, removing it will be a major traumatic surgery, even for someone in good condition. My professional opinion is that Wesker isn’t strong enough to recover from that in addition to his current injuries.’

Chris stared at Albert’s still form, knowing that he could never live with that thing still inside him rendering him powerless and forced into obedience. ‘And when he is?’ He asked, a dark insistence creeping into his tone as he thought of another reason she might be leaving it in.

‘I’ll remove it myself.’ She tilted her chin up defiantly as if sensing his thoughts. ‘And if the BSAA objects, well, I don’t want to work for an organisation that would allow something like that to be used on a person anyway.’

Relief flooded into him at her words. ‘Thank you.’

 

Finally, Chris was allowed into Albert’s room. He settled into the chair by the bed, taking Albert’s pale, limp hand in his own as if he could transfer warmth and life into him by touch. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and Albert’s quiet breathing comforted him as he sat vigil. He’d have stayed there without budging but Jill forced him to take shifts with her by threatening to knock him out if he didn’t, and he was smart enough to take her seriously. But he didn’t sleep well, tormented by thoughts of what had happened to Albert, and Chris ultimately found it easier to nap while sitting next to his bed.

 

‘Ch-Chris?’ His name pulled him out of the doze, even weak and raspy he recognised that voice.

‘Al? I’m here.’ He stroked the fingers of the hand he was holding as they flexed restlessly, Albert tossing his head from side to side.

‘Chris!’ Albert wailed, suddenly writhing violently enough that the IV ripped out of his arm, blood leaking through bandages as he pulled his stitches loose.

The alarms on the monitors went off instantly, Chris’ words lost in the din. ‘I’m here!’ Chris leaped up, cupping Albert’s face and running his thumb over his cheekbone to try to calm him. ‘Look at me, Al. It’s me.’ Tears wet Chris’ fingers as a terrified orange eye met his own. Then an arm wrapped around him, dragging him down with startling strength. Automatically, Chris put a hand out to catch himself on the edge of the bed.

Albert whimpered at his resistance, still tugging on him weakly as the burst of energy drained out of him.

‘I’m here.’ Chris murmured, gently pulling the trembling Albert up into a hug. He heard voices and footsteps behind him, and the alarms were mercifully turned off. No one disturbed them directly but Albert peered over his shoulder before burying his face in Chris’ neck with a quiet cry of distress as he started shaking harder. ‘It’s ok.’

‘Don’t let them hurt me.’ The words were muffled in Chris’ skin.

‘I won’t, you’re safe.’ He kissed Albert’s hair, carefully rubbing his back along his spine to soothe him. A quick glance showed that Jill was shooing the nurses out, and he gave her a nod as thanks.

Albert’s grip on him loosened as he tired himself out, letting Chris lay him back on the bed. He shuddered as he saw the monitors. ‘Where?’

‘The BSAA’s hospital.’ Chris kissed his forehead, then down his cheek to dry his tears.

‘You found me.’ Albert’s lips met his in a tender kiss that became a sob of relief.

And now Chris was crying too, his tears spilling onto Albert’s face to mingle with his own as he pressed their foreheads together. ‘I love you.’ They kissed desperately and too roughly, Chris tasting Albert’s blood as his lips split, but Albert wouldn’t let him stop, holding Chris tightly against him as if he was just as afraid of losing him again.

‘Chris?’ A quiet woman’s voice asked.

He turned to see Cordelia watching, and quickly scrubbed at his face in mild embarrassment.

‘I’d like to check his stitches.’

‘Oh.’ Chris touched Albert’s shoulder in reassurance. ‘She’s a friend. Is it ok if she takes a look at you?’

Albert gave her a suspicious glare.

‘I’ll be right here.’ Chris promised.

‘Fine.’ He held onto Chris too tightly but he didn’t make any noises of protest or discomfort while she looked over his injuries.

Chris waited until she was finished before asking, more out of politeness than anything since he’d made his mind up already. ‘Can I take him home?’

Cordelia sighed. ‘Normally I wouldn’t recommend it, but I’ll make an exception for my favourite stubborn patient. There isn’t much more we can do for him here anyway. Let me get you a printout of what you need to do to take care of him, and his medications, and then you can go.’

Chris picked Albert up with the intention of helping him into the wheelchair but once he was in his arms he found that he couldn’t bear to put him down again, especially not with Albert clinging to him for comfort. ‘I’ll carry him. It’s not that far.’

Jill drove them to Chris’ apartment so he could sit in the backseat with Albert, holding him close the whole way.

 

Chris deposited him carefully on the couch, draping a blanket around his shoulders even though he was already wearing one from the hospital. Albert threw him a faintly annoyed look that Chris found reassuringly familiar. 

‘I’ll make you some soup and then you can sleep.’ Chris headed into the kitchen and came back out with the soup cartons, holding them up so Albert could see his choices. ‘Chicken or beef?’

‘Chicken?’ Albert said after some hesitation, flinching as if afraid he’d be hurt for saying the wrong thing.

‘Okay.’ Chris forced a grin onto his face, trying to pretend he was fine despite feeling ill at Albert’s reaction, and went to turn the stove on. He knew it would take a long time for Albert to feel safe, and to recover, but it was still upsetting to see how frightened he was. While the soup was heating Chris returned to the living room to check on him.

Albert was huddled up, looking small and thin under the heavy blankets, but he glanced up at Chris with a wry look. ‘You can never do the beef correctly.’

‘Al, they both come out of a carton. They’re prepared exactly the same way.’ Chris said defensively, but he was oddly relieved at the resumption of their old argument.

‘And yet you still can’t manage to do it right.’ Albert teased him.

‘Hey, you haven’t tried it for a while. Maybe you’ll have a different opinion now.’

He tilted his head thoughtfully, but his tone was doubtful. ‘Maybe.’

Chris brought the soup out to him in a mug so he could drink it without fiddling with a spoon. He was idly thankful that Albert was ambidextrous though, he wouldn’t have allowed Chris to feed him no matter how injured he was.

Albert was yawning before he’d finished his meal, slipping sideways until he was leaning on Chris as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Hastily, Chris took the mug away so he didn’t drop it, then gathered Albert up into his arms and took him to bed. He tucked him in, running a hand through messy blond hair and kissing his forehead as Albert sighed and fidgeted a bit, then reluctantly left to let him sleep.

‘Chris?’

The hesitant whisper made him stop at the door.

Albert was awake again, and watching him with an almost scared expression. ‘Don’t leave me.’

‘I’ll be on the couch just out there.’ Chris tried to convince them both, despite wanting to stay he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do for either of them.

‘Please don’t leave me alone.’ His voice broke as he hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arm around himself in a protective hug.

‘Shit.’ Chris dashed back to the bed, pulling Albert tight against his chest. ‘It’s ok, I’m here, I won’t leave you.’ Albert was shaking so badly he felt like he was going to shatter in Chris’ arms, and he rubbed Albert’s bare back where the control chip was, rocking him gently. ‘I love you, Al.’ Gradually, the tremors and the sobbing eased, Albert’s breathing steadying as he fell asleep. Chris arranged them both comfortably, and found his own sleep still holding Albert.

He woke up to screaming, and Albert thrashing wildly to free himself from Chris’ grip. Immediately, Chris let him go, afraid that if Albert hit him by accident the control chip would activate.

Albert fell off the bed, clawing at the floor with his single arm to try to get away, his useless legs dragging behind him. Then he simply collapsed as his energy ran out, trembling in fear as he curled up as much as his damaged body would let him.

‘Al?’ Chris knelt on the floor next to him, reaching out slowly. He froze when Albert flinched and made a low cry of distress. ‘Al, it’s me, Chris.’

‘Chris?’ Albert’s eye was wide with panic as he stared at Chris.

‘Yeah.’

‘I don’t want to be hurt anymore.’ He whispered, then turned his face into the carpet and wept silently. Blood was seeping into his bandages from torn stitches, the physical pain probably aggravating his mental anguish.

Chris’ heart ached at his lover’s suffering, and at his own inability to help. He did grab a blanket to put over Albert, relieved as he huddled into the warmth even though he was still shivering.

It felt like forever before he spoke again. ‘Chris?’

‘Yeah, I’m here.’

This time Albert struggled to sit up, his gaze more focussed and aware of his surroundings, but Chris resisted the urge to touch him. ‘I need a shower.’

Chris winced, because while he understood why Albert wanted to feel clean, he was under strict orders from the doctor. ‘You’re too injured. I’m supposed to give you sponge baths.’

‘Fuck.’ Albert snarled viciously, his eye flashing red and his fingers flexing as if he wanted to hit something, but Chris didn’t sense the anger was directed at him.

He gave Albert a moment and then added: ‘I need to check your stitches and change your bandages too.’

Another frustrated snarl came out of Albert, followed by a heavy sigh of acceptance. ‘Fine.’ When Chris picked him up to put him back on the bed he hissed, his brow furrowing as his muscles tightened in pain.

Chris frowned and went on a search for the information sheet on his pain meds. ‘I think you can have more medication now.’

‘No.’ Albert gasped, shaking his head in renewed panic.

‘I know you don’t like drugs, but you’re safe with me.’ This was an old fear that Chris already knew about, though the recent torture had obviously brought all Albert’s past issues up to the surface again. Chris caressed his cheek, feeling Albert lean into the touch. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you.’

He moaned, his eye fluttering closed briefly before he took a shuddering breath and consented. ‘Ok.’

Chris held his hand while they waited for the drugs to kick in, the deep lines drawn in Albert’s face softening as his pain lessened. ‘You still want me to bathe you?’

‘Yeah.’ Albert watched him with bemusement as he collected the supplies the doctor had given him and set them up beside the bed. ‘You never mind taking care of me.’

‘Of course not.’ Chris followed the instructions on the printout carefully, getting the towels positioned under Albert’s body then helping him out of the light pants he was wearing. He pulled the sheet back up to cover Albert before fetching the tub of water and a washcloth and getting started.

Albert’s missing eye was still an empty socket with no obvious signs of healing, but fortunately Chris’ inspection didn’t find any infection either and he replaced the bandages. Next he shampooed Albert’s hair, taking his time running his hands through the thick blond strands.

Albert kept his eye closed so he didn’t get anything in it, but there was a faint upturn to his lips that said he knew that Chris was enjoying himself. ‘Predictable.’ He muttered, his expression almost but not quite becoming a smile as Chris chuckled quietly.

But Chris sobered as he finished with Albert’s hair and turned his attention to the rest of his battered body. Between the white bandages Albert’s skin was marked with coloured bruises at various stages of healing, and Chris carefully removed the tape and gauze to check the wounds underneath. A few stitches had tugged at the surrounding skin enough to draw blood, but to Chris’ relief nothing was actually torn, and all he had to do was put fresh bandages on after gently washing the injured areas.

‘This feels nice.’ Albert murmured, sounding surprised at his own admission.

Chris had worried that one or both of them would find it embarrassing, but it was just like all the other times they’d helped each other shower, intimate without being sexual. After he’d finished with his chest, he rolled Albert onto his side to check the rest of his injuries, hesitating as he saw the size of the bandage covering part of Albert’s lower back.

‘They wanted… samples.’ Albert’s explanation was ragged, his constant trembling becoming visible shaking.

‘I’m sorry.’ Chris softly kissed a yellowed bruise on his shoulder, guilt almost choking him. He hadn’t found the courage yet to tell Albert that he’d given up searching for him, that if he’d only kept looking Albert might not have suffered so much. Not now, he chastised himself firmly. At least he didn’t need to look closely at that particular wound, he almost couldn’t bear the ones he had seen. There was a series of bandages running down Albert’s thighs and calves to cover the deep incisions that had crippled him, and Chris had to check those. He did so, relieved again that nothing had re-opened, and then washed up the length of his legs.

Albert whimpered, his muscles tensing as Chris touched his thighs.

While Chris sincerely didn’t want to cause him any more distress, it was important that all his injuries were tended to. ‘Al, I need to clean between your legs. Is that ok?’

‘Ok.’ He went silent, biting his lip to stifle another faint whimper.

Chris finished as quickly as he could, helping Albert into a clean pair of pants and getting him comfortable on his back again afterwards.

Albert hugged the bedsheet to his chest, shivering violently while his hand crept up to touch his neck, tracing the scars the collar had left. ‘Where is he? Did you arrest him?’

He didn’t need to ask who Albert meant. ‘No. He’s dead.’ Chris reassured him as he put another blanket over Albert.

Albert clutched at the new blanket, his expression startled. ‘You killed him. For me.’

‘Yeah.’ Chris couldn’t find the words to respond, but he didn’t get the chance to dwell on his guilt again.

Tears ran down Albert’s cheek as he tried to blink them back. ‘They raped me.’

‘I know, Al. I’m sorry.’ He fussed with the blanket some more because he had to do something to help, and kissed Albert’s forehead. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

Albert shook his head mutely.

‘Ok. I’m just going to go put this stuff away, but I’ll come back.’ He took his time putting away the basins and hanging the cloths to dry, giving Albert some space if he needed it. Chris definitely did after seeing the evidence of the abuse that Albert had gone through, and he wrung the cloth out like it was someone’s neck he was squeezing.

When he came back, Albert reached out for him. ‘Stay with me.’ He pulled Chris down into a kiss, nipping lightly at his lips as Chris settled into bed beside him. His voice was still quiet with a hint of fear as his arm tightened around Chris. ‘I don’t deserve your kindness.’

‘That’s too bad, you’re getting it anyway.’ Chris replied a bit too forcefully, suddenly scared for no discernable reason.

Albert kissed him again then put his head on Chris’ shoulder with a soft sigh. ‘Fuck, I was such a fool to let you go.’

The worry faded as Chris combed his fingers through damp blond hair, appreciating how sentimental Albert was being even as he chuckled at the reason why. ‘I forgot how much nicer you are when you’re on strong pain meds.’

Albert snorted in amusement, but he didn’t deny it. Instead he cuddled up against Chris, so close that they were breathing the same air as they shared tender, lazy kisses. Chris didn’t want or expect things to go further, and neither did Albert, who eventually gave a contented sigh, tucked his face into Chris’ neck and fell asleep. It was harder for Chris to do the same, but feeling Albert’s heart beating against his own, and holding his living warmth in his arms helped him drift off.

 

The next night wasn’t anywhere near as peaceful as Albert adamantly refused to attempt sleeping again after waking up screaming.

Chris didn’t push him, not when it was obvious how terrified he was. ‘If you can’t sleep, we could watch TV or something.’ He suggested, it didn’t happen as frequently anymore but he’d had more than his fair share of experience with insomnia due to PTSD.

‘Watch TV?’ Albert said slowly with an incredulous expression on his face.

‘Yeah.’ Awkwardly, Chris rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. ‘Sometimes when I can’t sleep, it helps distract me, I thought it might work for you too.’

‘It sounds so… normal.’ He plucked at an invisible thread in the sheets, his voice low and rough when he spoke again. ‘They kept me in a cage.’

‘Al-’

As if he wasn’t even aware of Chris’ presence, Albert kept talking. ‘I was awake while they…’ Shivering, he touched one of the bandaged wounds on his stomach. ‘I could feel it…’

Chris stared at him in horror at the revelation, quickly trying his nickname again out of concern that he was remembering too much pain. ‘Al?’

Albert startled as if coming out of a trance as he glanced back up at Chris. ‘Yeah?’ He frowned, then nodded as he recalled Chris’ original question. ‘Yeah, I’d like to watch TV.’

Albert curled up next to him as Chris flipped through infomercials for something more interesting. The credits to an old movie started up and Chris paused on the channel. ‘Spaghetti western?’ He asked Albert, who only shrugged.

They watched in silence for a few minutes before Albert leaned over to bump his cheek against Chris’ shoulder.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Hold me.’ The plea didn’t really make sense since Chris already had his arm around Albert, but he pulled him closer. ‘No, I mean… tighter.’

‘Um.’ Chris turned sideways so he could rest against the arm of the couch, then tugged Albert into his lap and put both arms around him. ‘Is that better?’

‘Yeah.’ Albert snuggled back against him, and Chris nuzzled his cheek as they watched the sheriff go after a cattle rustler.

 

When Chris woke up it was daytime, sunlight peeking through the curtains as he blinked and yawned. On the TV, one man on horseback was shooting at another, the volume so low it was just ambient noise. Albert was sprawled on top of him, his head resting on Chris’ shoulder as he slept peacefully. Chris adjusted the blanket draped over him so Albert wouldn’t get a chill, his gaze lingering on the bruises and the bandages.

With a low groan Albert woke up too, catching Chris staring at his back.

‘I’m sorry.’ Guilt welled up in Chris as he hugged Albert gently, the confession pouring out of him. ‘I gave up. I stopped looking for you.’

Albert considered him then stated confidently: ‘I don’t believe you. You don’t give up, even when you should.’

Chris shook his head, bitterly ashamed at himself. ‘I thought you were dead-’

‘You never forgot me.’ A slit-pupiled orange eye fixed on him intently. ‘And you did rescue me.’

He felt like crying at Albert’s faith in him. ‘It was just chance.’

‘Fate.’ Albert corrected firmly, winding their fingers together as if in demonstration. ‘Our fates are forever intertwined, Chris.’

As Albert kissed him, and happily cuddled back up against him, Chris hoped that it was true.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m shocked at how much interest this fic has gotten for how incredibly self-indulgent it is, but thank you very much everyone for reading and all the lovely comments! :)  
> This chapter is really an epilogue, just to have a proper happy ending. (Ok, and a bit more consensual sex.)

Chris had used every ounce of his clout with the BSAA and called in more than a few favours to make sure that Albert was protected as a victim of bio-terrorism instead of being prosecuted for his past crimes. Fortunately he’d had Jill and the doctor, Cordelia, on his side, as well as medical records to back him up.

 

They fell into a daily routine easily. Though they’d never formally moved in together while in STARS, Wesker had kept his own place for reasons that after the mansion incident Chris bitterly understood, they’d still spent most evenings with each other, and even though Albert required more care now it didn’t feel that different. Not that things were entirely simple, they’d had more than a few verbal fights, the last one ending with Albert curled up on the floor having a full-blown panic attack. After that both of them had made a concerted effort not to let another argument escalate that far.

Albert’s wounds continued to steadily, if unpredictably, heal. Chris had almost had a heart attack the day he’d pulled off the bandage on Albert’s face to see a whole slit-pupiled eye blinking back at him. Of course Albert had found that hilarious, and Chris was too relieved to be pissed off once he’d gotten over the shock.

Gradually, Albert even managed to begin to talk about what he’d been through. It was mostly disjointed and halting, and sometimes incoherent when he was crying, but it seemed to ease his pain to be able to say it out loud. So Chris listened even if he didn’t understand everything, holding Albert and murmuring soothing words of reassurance when he needed to hear them.

What they hadn’t discussed, and maybe were intentionally avoiding, was the topic of sex. Chris would never dream of pressuring Albert into anything before he was ready, but he was finding it more difficult to hide his own physical reactions as Albert recovered. Especially when enough of the bandages had been removed that he was allowed to take showers again, but only with Chris’ assistance since he still couldn’t stand on his own. Which meant being in close proximity to Albert’s naked body. He’d regained some of his lost weight and muscle, the bruises were gradually fading, and even a few of the scars had started to heal without a trace left on his skin. It wasn’t only his body that Chris was attracted to, but Albert was undeniably beautiful, and since sex had been part of their former relationship he couldn’t help thinking about it. But Albert also continued to flinch at unexpected touches, and he still trembled constantly, a physical side effect of serious psychological trauma. So Chris kept those thoughts to himself, even while they continued to sleep together and share not entirely chaste kisses that made him wonder if maybe Albert did want more.

 

Chris didn’t know what had woken him, but that was hardly an unusual occurrence, he’d had trouble sleeping for years. He sighed, nuzzled the blond head snuggled up to his shoulder, and suddenly realised that Albert was both awake and sexually aroused, the unmistakable firmness of his erection pressing into Chris’ thigh. ‘Al?’

At the sound of Chris’ voice, Albert scrambled away from him onto the other side of the bed. Chris’ first instinct was to worry, but on second thought Albert seemed more humiliated than panicked. His cheeks were flushed a brilliant red, his breathing rough, and he refused to meet Chris’ gaze.

‘Uh.’ Chris didn’t want to assume this meant something, he didn't know what Albert had been thinking about, and it could be entirely involuntary. Since Albert couldn’t simply take care of himself in the shower though, Chris felt the need to offer him an alternative. ‘I’ll get you a towel, and then give you some privacy.’

Albert shrugged, staring down at the tent in his pants instead of looking at Chris.

‘Ok?’ Chris said awkwardly as he tossed the towel onto the bed, then paused as he thought he heard Albert whisper something. ‘What?’

Albert finally glanced up at him with dull eyes. ‘You think I’m a whore.’

‘What? No!’

‘Then why don’t you want me?’ The words were a soft broken plea.

‘I do want you.’ Chris returned to sit on the bed, brushing his fingers against Albert’s in reassurance. ‘So much. But you were… hurt. And I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m forcing you.’

‘Oh.’ He said softly, looking down again as he considered the words. Despite the seriousness of the conversation he was still aroused. ‘I was dreaming about you.’

It was Chris’ turn to breathe a startled ‘Oh’ when Albert slid his fingers through Chris’, guiding his hand between his legs as he glanced up at Chris with unconcealed lust in his faintly glowing eyes. Experimentally, Chris pressed his palm against the hard length of his cock. The reaction was immediate, Albert jerking his hips forwards as his head tilted back, a low gasp escaping him. A small damp patch was already spreading in the fabric of his pants, and Chris brought his mouth down to it, tasting him through the wet cotton. Albert moaned, winding his fingers roughly into Chris’ hair.

Chris teased him a bit more then sat up to kiss him. ‘Lie down.’ He coaxed Albert onto his back, making sure he was comfortably propped up on some pillows before they continued. ‘What do you want me to do?’ Chris asked, kissing his neck and along his collarbones.

Hesitantly, Albert cupped his jaw, running his thumb along Chris’ lips. ‘Your mouth felt good.’ He shuddered as Chris licked the pad of his thumb, gently catching it between his teeth and sucking on it. His fingers slid back into Chris’ hair as he kissed a path down Albert’s chest, tugging his pants lower to nuzzle the blond hair around his cock. ‘Wait.’ Albert stopped him as Chris started to pull his pants further down. ‘Take your clothes off.’

It wasn’t the order Chris had expected, but he didn’t mind, grinning at Albert as he watched with clear enjoyment. ‘Do you want me to keep going now?’

‘Yes.’ Despite the instant response there was a more than a hint of fear in Albert’s eyes as Chris worked his pants off and spread his legs to kneel between them.

He massaged the muscles in Albert’s thighs to ease his tension. ‘You ok?’

Albert nodded but it was obvious how vulnerable he felt by the small shuddering flinches that ran through him, and the shallow breaths he gasped in. His tendons still hadn’t completely healed, so while he had some minimal movement in his legs he had very little strength, and only one arm. Even without the control chip implanted in his back he had no chance in a fight, if Chris chose to he could have easily held Albert down and done anything he wanted to him.

The idea made him nauseous. The knowledge that Albert had endured exactly that, multiple times, made him angry. ‘I won’t hurt you, Al. I love you, and I would never hurt you.’ His imploring gaze met Albert’s and the fear faded from the orange eyes.

‘Touch me.’

Chris kissed up the inside of his thigh, mouthing at the inner crease of his leg. Albert’s fingers sank into his hair as he sighed Chris’ name in pleasure. He rubbed his cheek against Albert’s cock then licked his way up to the tip to taste him again, his own cock hard with excitement. A loud moan encouraged him as he ran his tongue along the sensitive underside of the head, and his hand dropped to fondle Albert’s balls. They felt tight and full in his palm, and Chris could tell that Albert was already on the edge of orgasm. Chris took his cock into his mouth, teasing with his tongue first, and then swallowing quickly as Albert came.

‘Chris, ah, Chris.’ His entire body twitched in involuntary little jerks, his fingers pulling Chris’ hair, his thighs trembling, and his voice ragged. When he finally relaxed Chris kissed back up his chest to his mouth, letting him taste himself on Chris’ tongue.

Albert’s hand wandered down to Chris’ hip, tantalisingly close to his aching cock. ‘You do want me.’ He murmured, a smug, if rather dazed, smile on his face.

‘Yeah.’ Chris moaned as his cock was expertly stroked, rutting desperately against both Albert’s fingers and his thigh. He whined into Albert’s shoulder as he came, collapsing on top of him. Albert’s hand slid around to Chris’ back to hold onto him tightly, their naked bodies pressed together. It felt good, not just the sex, but the cuddling, even though Albert would deny that was what it was. ‘I love you, Al.’ He kissed Albert, surprised at the sleepy mumbled response.

‘I love you too, Chris.’

 

* * *

 

It had taken months for Albert to recover physically, longer for therapy to start helping the psychological trauma, and he still had terrible nightmares, but slowly and surely he was healing. When he was well enough he’d started tracking down and killing the people who had abused him that for various reasons the BSAA hadn’t been able to prosecute. Chris had offered to go with him, of course, but Albert said he needed to do it alone, and Chris had accepted that. It also gave him plausible deniability, but he suspected the BSAA wasn’t going to bother investigating the deaths anyway. He’d demanded one condition though, that while he was gone Albert would check in with him twice a day and if he missed it Chris wouldn’t rest until he’d found him again. Albert not only hadn’t objected, but had been visibly relieved as he agreed.

 

Even though it had only been a few hours since Chris had last heard from Albert he still worried, not just for fear of something happening to him but also for his state of mind.

Rousseau… as if Chris hadn’t hated the man enough already, when Albert had finally been able to talk to Chris about what had happened to him, that name had come up again. He’d hurt Albert almost as badly as Argus, and he’d been responsible for giving him to that lab when Argus needed to get rid of his BOWs. As elusive as he’d proven to be though, Albert was driven by pure rage and Chris was confident that Rousseau wouldn’t escape.

The door finally opened, Chris craning his neck around to watch Albert come in and take his boots off. He barely looked at Chris before heading into the bedroom.

Chris stayed on the couch for a few more minutes, growing concerned as he didn’t hear Albert moving in the other room, or come out again. When Chris went in to find him Albert was sitting on the bed, hunched over with his arms around his legs.

‘He’s dead.’ He said quietly as Chris walked over to sit next to him. ‘I thought it would make a difference, but it doesn’t.’ Albert took a shuddering breath. ‘They’re all dead, and I’m still-’ A broken sob escaped him.

‘Alive.’ Chris said, rubbing his back between his shoulder blades. The control chip had been removed months ago but Albert still found the gesture reassuring. ‘You’re still alive.’

‘Chris…’ He turned to slump into Chris’ waiting arms. They tipped sideways onto the bed, hugging each other as Albert buried his face in Chris’ neck, letting out a few more quiet sobs, but these sounded more like relief than pain. Chris kissed his hair, then his lips when Albert brought his head up. ‘What happens now?’ Albert asked, an odd resignation in his tone.

‘What do you mean?’

He hesitated, studying Chris intently. ‘We were enemies, before all of this.’

‘That was-’ Confused, Chris struggled to remember. ‘-more than a year and a half ago.’ He faltered as despair crept in, unable to believe what he was hearing when Albert was in his arms and they were curled up on the bed they shared. ‘You really want to start fighting again?’

‘No.’ Albert shook his head, his fingers digging into Chris’ back as if afraid that Chris was the one trying to leave. ‘But it’s not that simple-’

‘Then we’ll figure out a way to make it work. Together.’ Chris interrupted desperately because he couldn’t bear the idea of losing Albert again.

‘So determined.’ A wry smile flitted across Albert’s face, but there was clear relief in his eyes.

‘Hey, you’re the one who told me we were meant for each other.’ Chris grinned too as the mood changed.

‘I did.’ Albert agreed, his eyes flickering red briefly as he suddenly rolled them over to straddle Chris. ‘We are.’ He slid his hands up under Chris’ shirt as he leaned down to give him a passionate kiss.

Their gazes met, Chris entranced by how beautiful and fierce Albert looked, and he kissed him back just as deeply.


End file.
